Soulmates
by googlycat
Summary: A heavy-BDSM soulmates AU. After turning 18 you get a magical writing on your wrist with the name of your soulmate(s), your role, and an instruction. Following them guarantees your happiness. Rachel's assignment turns her entire life upside down. Max is pretty happy with it though. And then mistakes are made. I hate the char limit of this website. Go to ao3 instead.
1. Prologue

This fic features a lot of very heavy and **questionably consensual** kink in essentially a full-blown erotic fantasy world with every aspect of it revolving around different fetishes. If this warning isn't music to your ears then it's probably time to back out. Otherwise, enjoy.

I highly suggest you read it over at ao3: /works/15281859

Also, this is not a porn-without-plot story, though that's not to say there won't be porn. It'll take a couple of chapters to ramp up, but once it does, keep the warning in mind, especially the bold text because if you proceed anyway, it's not my responsibility to click the red X in the top right.

Rachel's life at Blackwell had a lot of ups and downs over the years. Apart from school and drama and her evershifting interests, her will to feel alive and her neverending ambitions, there was a person at the center of everything – Chloe Price.

At first, they were simple friends. That quickly escalated into something more – close friends, best friends, and even lovers. After Max's departure to Seattle, after David turned up in her life, after everything went crashing down onto her shoulders, Chloe found her salvation in Rachel's loyal companionship – and Rachel, in turn, found her own meaning in being Chloe's center and support.

For a while, they thought that they had everything figured out. They'll live together, they'll be together, they will escape to LA together – no matter what. They practically _expected_ to be assigned to each other at maturity, and the only remaining question was about who is going to become the sub. They even had a lot of playfights over that – Rachel always tried to boss her around, but Chloe always found a way to rebel and mess with her somehow. So even when Rachel _was_ effectively in charge of things, it never really felt like she truly was, because in some way it was always because Chloe let her. That was just their endless dynamic.

They were giddy, happy times.

But every good time eventually comes to an end. Chloe was the first to turn 18, and they had another half a year until Rachel did. Normally, the reveal happens for most people within a month after their 18th birthday. Chloe's… was not an exception.

It was crushing at the time that Chloe was paired up with someone else, and someone they barely knew at that – some girl called Megan Weaver that didn't even go to Blackwell. It felt as random as it could have been, but at least Chloe's role made perfect sense.

Showgirl. Which was, essentially, a submissive exhibitionist. Really, the role suited her perfectly – Chloe was all about showing herself off, all about looking rebellious and unconventional, sexy and hot, and independent from… _almost_ everyone. The role did not infringe on that independence whatsoever. She was free to be herself, and the main fetish of her dom, Megan, was to watch and direct the sexy shows she required Chloe to perform for her. Striptease kind of stuff with kinky toys or light bondage. Though she didn't even need to be with her to do it – they've done it through Skype sometimes, which only highlighted the sheer amount of freedom Chloe had as a sub. She could be anywhere in the world without severing the bond. Of course though, Megan exerted _some_ strict control – for example, Chloe wasn't allowed to cum without Megan watching. Megan also had some additions to Chloe's punk-rock look – her nipples were pierced, and so was her clit, and bellybutton, and she always wore a spiky collar now.

And honestly, Chloe was very surprised to like her thing with Megan as much as she did. Maybe she shouldn't have been – the assignments, by nature, are one's path to happiness. Whatever mechanism is behind them, it simply knows better than anyone. That's something Chloe eventually came to realize on practice. Rachel… didn't. The fact that she didn't get matched with Chloe in the way they literally dreamed of for years felt like some sort of a mistake. Can the system make mistakes? Not as far as everyone thought, but it's not like people didn't doubt it either, and for good reasons, like this one. At the time, it didn't seem like Rachel could be happy with anyone else. But of course, she didn't know.

As a result of the Megan thing, fortunately, Rachel and Chloe's relationship didn't end up falling apart – it only ended up regressing, until they simply were best friends again. They still had plans to leave and be together, just not as lovers now. It was hard to accept, especially at first when they had to work through both Megan and the fact that it meant that Rachel would also receive someone else. But the eventual outcome – that they'll be happy without being lovers - was something they both had to accept, simply because of how the writings were supposed to work.

Eventually, Rachel's 18th birthday rolled around. Without Chloe, there was really no doubt in her or anyone's mind that Rachel will become a dom. She was the very responsible kind of person that usually got that role. In terms of fetishes, she wasn't sure exactly what kind of sub she was going to get, and what she even wanted herself – seemingly, it was _everything_ , so she sure spent the first month after the birthday excitedly guessing and checking her wrist all the time.

But nothing happened. A month had passed, two, three, six, a year. She was a few months into 19, and still nothing appeared on her wrist. While not impossible, that was quite rare. Though Rachel was more inclined to think of it as some sort of divine malfunction. Maybe whatever cosmic sorting system was at play here just messed up by not giving her Chloe, and now Rachel had no one else to get.

Though at that point, did it really matter? Rachel stopped guessing and hoping a while ago. She had enough freedom to be herself, to strive for her interests, and Chloe wasn't leaving her no matter what.

Things were probably alright.

Then there was Max.

Max… was another story. Her departure to Seattle didn't just fuck Chloe up – it fucked her up as well. She felt guilty, but she couldn't bring herself to stay in touch. And without Chloe her life kind of declined into a box, from which she barely got out to interact with the rest of the world. There were some acquaintances, someone she might even call a friend with a tiny struggle, but other than that – she was depressed about it, and it was hard to enjoy things, or feel like she _deserved_ to enjoy them when her mind always reminded her of that piece of guilt sitting at the back of it.

A lot of thinking went into their past relationship. What Max meant to Chloe, how she literally meant the world to her…

But there was little to be done in Max's mind about that. At one point she decided to delve into her interests fully – Photography mainly – to at least distract herself from this. And that eventually bore fruit, perhaps ironically, because winning a scholarship at Blackwell meant that Max was going back to Arcadia Bay.

To Chloe.

So, 4 years later, Max was back, and she was back to the middle of Chloe and Rachel's relationship. Chloe turned out to be relatively fine, and even if it took a hurtful conversation or two, having Rachel's support helped her through a lot, which in turn helped Max to put at least some of her guilt behind. A lot remained, but at least she was back, and Chloe didn't refuse her, and Rachel was nice to hang around.

Over the following year, Max was still acting much like she was still in Seattle though. Pretty shut-in, mostly hanging out with only a couple of people other than Chloe and Rachel. Her and Rachel became friends pretty quickly, actually. In Rachel's head, if Chloe was okay with Max despite what she did, then she was okay with Max as well. The same mechanism worked in Max's mind towards Rachel. And that mechanism ended up gradually increasing their closeness too – they were both incredibly important to Chloe, which made them both significantly important to each other.

And, there was the model–photographer relationship brewing too. They even had a couple of photoshoots. Rachel found Max cute and fun, and surprisingly skilled, and Max quietly found Rachel absolutely amazing – in fact, she was sort of an inspiration for some of her photography.

Life was better. Max was there this time to support Chloe with their Megan thing, and ended up helping Rachel through it as well. The guilt, while still present and sometimes resurfacing whenever Chloe cracked a joke about her life and whatnot, or when Rachel talked about their risky shenanigans, remained mostly on the background of things.

The foreground included, apart from Chloe and Rachel, her studies and interests, and interestingly, Max finally started thinking about kink too. Well, it was hard not to in a place like Blackwell – it was prestigious not only because of their exclusive art programs, but also because of their unique sub training courses and state of the art facilities.

It wasn't hard to guess which Max will be, and she was already mistaken a couple of times for a sub at Blackwell. Being a sub was okay with her. Though most of her time was spent quietly hoping for a dom she could very easily very tightly bond with, rather than for a specific fetish Max wanted to live herself. It was… a strange realization after all these years, but she wanted someone to depend on her. Just like Chloe did all those years ago. Perhaps, that would be her way to make up for what she did. She didn't know. What she did know though, was that she felt guilty for thinking that.

A year in Arcadia Bay, and Max was 18 at the end of September. At least she wouldn't have to wonder for much longer after that.


	2. The Reveal

It was early October, the slow and painful beginning of the academic year. There wasn't ever much excitement until Halloween. Everybody had to shift their brain gears from working in summer mode to working in daily study mode, which was never fun for anybody, except for maybe fresh subs that their doms happened to sign up for training courses, replacing their regular studies. Many of them came from afar just to attend them at Blackwell, just like the art students came from all over the country for arts. Though not every sub needed or wanted them, of course. The ones that attended were probably a minority of all freshly revealed subs – roles that allowed the doms to make life-changing choices for their subs were usually a minority in general – not a small one at all, but still a minority. For them, the past month was probably among the most exciting times in their lives.

By design, the wrist assignments worked in a way that revealed what people desired the most, even if they didn't know they did. So, the more demanding kinds of doms, or simply those who had really committed and eager subs signed their soulmates up for various training courses that Blackwell was famous for, according to the writings that they had. Most of them, of course, had the time to get excited about it too – what's not to like about doing what you enjoy and getting better at it?

Rachel, however, was not one of those people. She doubted her wrist will reveal anything at this point, since she was a good year and some months past the time when the reveal was usually expected. So to her, these were just regular study times, with the closest movement in sight – a party - being at the Halloween, and not much fun happening until then.

Generally, the best way to have fun for Rachel was to hang out with other people - Chloe and Max were the go-to friends for fun, but by far not the only ones she hung out with. Though it wasn't easy not to feel a little left out sometimes. Usually, her social circles consisted of people who already were either doms or subs that weren't fulltime, or simply those that had the freedom to hang out.

"So. I heard we might be getting something special this Halloween all thanks to you."

Today, after school, Rachel had an appointment with Juliet in her room. She was all official and proper, with a recorder and notes as well as even glasses – Rachel was pretty sure she was just goofing around at this point, even though Juliet usually acted totally serious about her journalism stuff. She wanted to interview Rachel for the Blackwell Totem, and they were comfortably sitting on the opposite sides of the couch in her room, legs crossed, proper. Rachel could match the seriousness just a little bit.

"Really?" Rachel was amusingly surprised. "Who'd you hear that from?"

"A bird." Juliet pleasantly shrugged, avoiding the question. "A journalist is only as good as their source."

Rachel hummed with a smile. "Well, I might as well say it on record. We _might_ be getting DJ Doom for our Halloween party."

A little hands up in surrender.

"No promises. I just happen to know his other half. She said she'd talk to him about it."

"That's great!"

Juliet scribbled something down in her journal before gazing back up at Rachel with a matching smile.

"How do you know his other half?"

Rachel was pretty sure this question wasn't for the Totem as much as it was for the gossip, but it was a gossip she could spread on her own terms, so that was fine.

"Oh. I know her from waaay back, from when I still lived in LA. We used to be friends and… we still stay in touch."

"That's cool. Friends are important. I hope you'll stay in touch with _us_ when you'll eventually go back there." A tiny bit of playfulness bleeding through. "That's still the plan, right?"

"Yep. That's hardly news for anybody."

"How do you imagine your life after graduation? Surely you have to see it a little differently from most."

So much for not bringing that up. Juliet just _had_ to brush the topic, despite knowing that the answer would be the same as when she asked last time, and the time before. Rachel just lightheartedly steered the topic away.

"Hm, well. First of all I have to get a sub like Kelly. She's really awesome at this, you know."

"Aw, thank you." endearingly came from below. For a brief moment, everyone's eyes turned to the girl on the floor as Rachel huffed a little smirk at that.

Juliet had a sub. A short pale redhead girl, Kelly Davis, who received quite a rare and specific role. She was a fulltime footslave. Kelly had her feet tortured and played with routinely, as well as had her sweetest spots often played with by Juliet's feet, was only allowed to cum from the touch of Juliet's feet, and most of her free time revolved around worshipping Juliet's feet with her mouth, both in public and in private. She absolutely loved it – they were a perfect example of a successful pairing, and a pretty extreme one at that - for them, the _fulltime_ equated to a pretty strict rule - the only reason why Kelly's mouth would ever be open would be to worship feet, and any kind of sustenance involved them as well. So her mouth was tightly gagged whenever she wasn't worshipping. They both seemed to be quite happy with such a restrictive arrangement despite its drawbacks, and Rachel often noticed Juliet boast to other doms about her particular way of playing out their fetish. Usually, before gagging her, Juliet shoved her used socks inside Kelly's mouth. Then, they used a stuffed panel harness gag to keep everything snug, and Juliet had the only key to the padlock at the back of her neck that unlocked the whole thing. Other than that, Kelly had her regular school life, save for maybe the little struggle of getting her muffled words across to her friends and teachers. The pair didn't need or want to put her through any sub training.

The big perk of being interviewed by Juliet was that the interviewee could have their feet licked by her sub during the process. Rachel didn't pass up such a pleasant opportunity, and Kelly was happy to oblige, since to her Rachel was among the most pleasant people she could serve.

This foot worship in particular was something Rachel liked quite a bit, so her answer was actually truthful too – she did want a sub that could do this.

Juliet, on the other hand, made an audible cough at the unauthorized sound from her slave _during an interview_.

"Oh. Sorry." Kelly shyly pulled back a little from Rachel's foot and hesitated. Her next words turned into a whisper.

".. May I?-Thanks."

Rachel smiled down at her a little, then uncrossed her legs and re-crossed them, presenting Kelly with her other foot. Kelly dutifully resumed her work, holding the bare foot with her hands and diving under it a little so she could continue placing long and pleasantly soft licks on her sole.

Juliet at least somewhat lightened from that interaction and glanced at her notebook again, where she presumably kept her questions. Rachel didn't like that aspect of interviewing – steering a such a conversation herself is like steering a train on a railroad, so there might be more questions like the last one, and it just wouldn't be fun. Unless Juliet got the hint and remembered her promise.

And it seemed like she did. Her eyes returned to Rachel in a moment with another topic.

"So, let's focus on our school life. You're taking the drama class this year—"

"-As always-"

"-As always." Smile. "What can we expect on stage in the near fu… ture…"

Juliet suddenly trailed off, fixating her eyes on Rachel's left forearm. Rachel just blinked confusedly, but remained silent. Juliet's eyes continued to stare for a moment before she finally hinted at her wrist in surprise.

"Rachel…"

Rachel looked at it herself, and her eyes widened with a quietly surprised gasp. Her wrist was giving off a soft blue glow. Some of that glow already concentrated a little, and seemed to be forming something.

Juliet slid up to Rachel from the other side of the couch to get a closer look, and even Kelly paused her worship to watch it. And of course, Juliet, being Juliet, could barely contain her emotions.

"Oh my god it's happening!" she half hugged the girl, grabbing her hand to expose her wrist to both of them.

"Oh my god." Rachel automatically repeated after Juliet in astonishment. Her heart suddenly started racing up.

After so much time, so suddenly. It was her reveal. Right now.

Anything comprehensible took a while to form, but _something_ was forming steadily – the blue glow that seemed to come from inside Rachel's wrist emitted little particles of light that traveled up her arm, and settled closer to the middle of her forearm, creating three parallel lines. Presumably - the name, the role, and the instruction. Everyone had them revealed in the same exact way.

Juliet used the chance to grab her phone and start recording. Rachel paid little attention to her, and neither of them paid much attention to Kelly, who was technically disobeying Juliet by not continuing her work and watching Rachel's wrist instead.

The light distribution between the lines was uneven. The top one was the first to fill up. Then, all of a sudden the light on it faded, and the black tattoo-like words were revealed.

 _Submissive of Maxine Caulfield_

Rachel's eyes widened in surprise. Juliet's too – everyone's did.

" _Whaaat?_ Submissive? _No way!_ " Juliet's words were filled with disbelief. _That_ was not something anyone expected.

Including Rachel.

"I'm a sub…?" she muttered in quiet surprise. It wasn't words of disappointment though – she genuinely was really surprised, though in a pretty neutral way.

"Holy crap."

Juliet gave Kelly another glance from hearing her talk, in response to which Kelly cowered a little as if getting back to work, but only a moment latter popped back up to watch the rest, seeing that Juliet didn't pay more attention to her, and neither did Rachel.

"Of Max Caulfield. Aren't you two good friends?" The tone of Juliet's words shifted into playful joy at this point. Suddenly, she tightly squeezed Rachel with a hug.

"Congratulationnnnnnns!"

Of Max Caulfield. Rachel let out a little amazed huff and gently returned some part of that hug, still somewhat stunned, but actually warmly smiling now. _Max_.

"Thank you."

She glanced down at Kelly, who was smiling widely as well.

Juliet finally released Rachel, but still couldn't contain herself.

"Wow. Rachel Amber is a _sub_. That's one hell of an exclusive."

Rachel gave off a little giggly smirk. "I guess."

The light in the meantime kept forming along the second line, and everyone's eyes went back to Rachel's wrist to watch it as Rachel ran the thought through her head and kept re-reading the first line. Her, a sub. Max, a dom. Them, assigned to each other _in that exact arrangement._ The ideas seemed equally as crazy.

The second line took a short while longer, and just like the first one, imprinted the black words into Rachel's skin as soon as the light faded.

 _Fulltime Human Pet_

Wait. What?

Rachel's brows furrowed in confusion. She glanced at Kelly, then at Juliet as if to confirm she was seeing the same thing they were seeing. Though that didn't help her much, because their reaction was jarringly different.

"Aww, you're a pet?" Another hug, one that Rachel didn't return this time.

"I never would have guessed. You've always seemed more like an owner to me - I would have bet money on that! And- _fulltime_ too, damn. That's pretty life-changing."

Kelly defiantly perked up from below – she of all people knew _that_.

"Yeah, it really is. Congratulations!"

Rachel though, was at a loss of words. The frown kind of just remained as she stared at her wrist in confusion. This was not something Rachel had ever even considered, let alone actively wanted. And it was way more extreme than anything she thought she preferred. Fulltime pet? What? Like always following her owner on a leash, crawling around half-naked like all the other pets? Relying on the owner to be allowed to do what, basically anything?

That's- no. Rachel didn't even fantasize about that for pleasure before. It's gotta be some mistake, or something.

Juliet, in the meantime, probably guessing that Rachel was overwhelmed, started comfortingly rubbing her shoulder.

"I'm really happy for you. It's been a long wait."

And Rachel resorted to hoping that maybe the third line would reveal something that'd help to make sense of this. The letters, just like before, appeared imprinted into her skin after the light particles faded.

 _Always be wholly loyal to your Dominant. Your happiness cannot be achieved without living her fetishes at their highest extreme. You need their hardships, and you need her to put you through so many. Your resolved struggle is the inspiration you both require._

The glow faded completely, and Rachel was left to blink confusedly at the writing. That was either cryptic as fuck or the opposite of relieving. None of this made any sense.

It didn't seem to make much sense for Juliet or Kelly either, so they both kind of remained silent for a few moments with a thoughtful look.

After a few of these moments, Rachel just shook her head.

"I… gotta-"

"-Oh, yeah of course. Go! We'll finish some other time. Go meet your soulmaaaaate."

Juliet was warm and bubbly, and pulled Rachel up from the couch almost entirely without Rachel's help.

Rachel just… didn't know what to think. This felt like a big confusing mistake – there's no way _this_ was her happiness, it's not even something she ever thought about wanting. And the connotations were scary to think about – her mind didn't even go that far. It was wrong at the foundation. Yeah. Maybe it _was_ a mistake. A malfunction. She had to see Max's writing. It must have the right assignment.

"Come ooon, she's gotta be waiting for you."

Juliet practically pushed her out of the room as Rachel got through her bewilderment. She almost forgot to put her shoes back on on the way out – thankfully it was Kelly's job to take care of that. Outside, Rachel somehow managed to flash a little smile and a "Yeah, see you." just on total autopilot as she walked off towards Max's room, running the revealed words in her head over and over.

"See you!"

Juliet turned back to Kelly, and squeezed her with a hug, as if the reveal was her own and not Rachel's. They genuinely were happy for her, and they went back inside their room smiling. And maybe Juliet was a little bit extra happy thanks to the fact that she was the first to get the news – no time was wasted before she started spreading them on social media.

Max, in the meantime, went through a similar process alone in her room. She never expected to be a dom, let alone of someone as she thought to be as _powerful_ as Rachel. In fact, the fact that she got paired with Rachel – easily the most amazing and out-of-her-league girl she could think of, was bewildering in itself. Because sometimes Max even doubted the idea that Rachel genuinely enjoyed hanging out with lame-her without Chloe. They seemed to be of different worlds – Rachel was this big and popular beautiful social butterfly, while Max was just sort of still in her cocoon.

But at the same time. It felt _right_. Even if her instruction seemed… questionable, it _felt_ right. She got someone she knew very well. She got someone she could bond with. Hell, she even got someone who would depend on her, seeing that she'd be her pet. _Her pet._

God. _Rachel Amber_. Her pet.

The girl of everyone's dreams - all hers. What the hell. That was actually arousing just to think about.

But Max didn't get much time to, because only after a minute of processing, the quick knocks on the door were followed by a turn of its knob, after which Rachel, as she often did because Max never minded, invited herself in.

"Hey."

"Hey." Max returned that with a joyful smile.

"Can I see?" Rachel hinted at the wrist.

"Oh. Of course." Max smiled happily and eagerly presented her wrist as she stood up from the couch. She quickly noticed that Rachel wasn't as outwardly joyful as Max was, but that was understandable – after all, she just got her reveal too, and must be as stunned by it as her.

Rachel quickly approached and gently took Max's hand, inspecting the writing.

 _Dominant of Rachel Dawn Amber_

 _Fulltime Owner of a Human Pet_

 _Be very strict. Your happiness lies in making her live your fetishes at their highest extreme. Never let her unwillingness or discomfort stop you from getting whatever you want from her, no matter how small, because she needs these hardships from you. But do not own an animal. You will always need her personality._

Rachel's heart sank in dread as she read this. This was not a mistake – even if it really, _really_ was – and Max's writing was even worse than her own. Hardships? Max being very strict? Her discomfort doesn't matter?

Rachel turned around, placing her palms on her forehead and stepping away to release a nervously vulnerable exhale, pacing left and right a little to process this horrible discovery. Nothing made sense. What does this even mean? What is she supposed to do now?

That's where it became fully obvious to Max that something was clearly wrong. Rachel wasn't stunned from excitement, no. This felt almost like the opposite.

"Rachel…?"

To that Rachel forcibly shook her head and removed her palms from covering her eyes, facing Max again to explain as much as to ramble her frustration out.

"No. This can't be right. The writings are mistaken, I-. No. I'm not a pet. I'm sorry."

Max was kind of clueless here, and a bit stunned. This was the last reaction she expected. In fact, her mind instantly went to the idea that Rachel didn't want _Max_ as her dom, which was pretty confidence-crushing. Even though it seemed that Rachel's problem was more related to her role rather than the soulmate.

Max's confusion showed on her face.

"Wh… what do you mean? Why?"

Rachel just continued pacing, speaking almost frantically as she did so.

"Because it doesn't make any sense. Why would _I_ get a role like _this?_ You know me. I'm not even- I'm not even _submissive_. And I never even considered doing any of this pet stuff like that."

That's not to mention what this crazily misplaced assignment meant for her long-term. She didn't even want to dip into those scary thoughts.

Max remained quiet for a moment. She… did not know how to handle this. Rachel came at her with a problem she was completely unprepared for, and more than that, one that didn't make much sense by itself.

"Well…"

She kinda scratched the back of her head, not particularly resolved by Rachel's pacing.

"Maybe you just need some time to process this? I think you're overreacting a little. You know you wouldn't have been assigned to be my pet if you didn't truly want it…"

"But I don't! That's the problem! _I don't want_ to be your fulltime pet. I don't want to be anyone's fulltime anything!"

Rachel forcibly expelled the air from her lungs in frustration and plopped down on the couch, slumping and supporting her face with her arm, the elbow of which was placed on her knee.

After another moment, Max quietly sat down beside, trying to… well, she didn't know what she was supposed to say or do. She never really did in situations like these – she wanted to help, but never knew how. That's what made them so awkward for her. Her words are supposed to help. Maybe some support and encouragement?

She carefully placed her hand on Rachel's shoulder.

"Look, it's… okay to have doubts, Rachel. You're overwhelmed and… probably afraid. But you don't have to be. You know me. We'll take everything slow. I won't make you go fulltime anytime soon, I promise. Don't worry about it. We'll just start trying some things and get you comfortable with them first. I'll give you as much time as you need until you're ready…"

Max actually surprised herself with how dommy she sounded there. Maybe it was the fact that her mind didn't see much of an alternative – the reveal bound them together, and following its instructions was basically common sense for pretty much everyone. Though ironically, that also went pretty strongly against the instructions of being strict and ignoring Rachel's unwillingness and comfort. Those felt… kinda cruel and counter-intuitive to Max, despite being noticeably exciting to her by their fetishistic nature.

But how could Max possibly act like that in this situation? Rachel was her friend, her _soulmate_ now. And it's not like they didn't have their entire lives ahead of them, either. They had the time to take this slow. They could have their fun with strictness later.

To Rachel though, listening to Max was… kind of disheartening. She probably thought she was trying to help, but this wasn't very helpful. Rachel's problem was not with getting into this properly – her problem was with getting into this at all. The more she thought about it, the more crushing the idea was.

It wasn't even all the implied sex and kink stuff – surely she can find some things she'd enjoy there, even as a sub. It was mostly the fact she would be fulltime, and Max confirming she intended to eventually turn her fulltime. Fulltime means basically… a completely different life, and considering Rachel spent more than a whole year thinking that she basically won't have a reveal, she obviously had her own vision of it. Her ambitions, her dreams, her interests, her plan to go to LA with Chloe – would any of that be possible if you're constantly on a leash? Especially of someone who's supposed to be 'very strict' about living the fetish to extreme?

The answer was obvious, no matter in what ways Rachel tried to wrap her mind around the issue.

Some pets had it easy. Some just had to act for their owners for a while, whenever their owners wanted them to. Fulltime pets, to Rachel's knowledge, were fully committed to their pet lives. They were always with their dominant, and they were always on their knees, and their lives largely depended on the choices of their owners. Rachel was not feeling too okay with that idea either. _Being allowed_ to pursue her interests by someone.

She sighed wearily and slumped down further.

"No, Max, just…."

Her voice sounded defeated now.

"I can't. And I won't."

There was a silent pause.

It seemed like that was Rachel's final decision, at least for now.

She stood up just as wearily and faced Max again.

"Let's just pretend we never got this reveal. We can still be friends, like always. I'll just keep living my life and you'll keep living yours."

"Rachel…"

That was actually hurtful on some level. Her role and happiness revealed only to end up like this.

Max stood up, then looked at her, and shook her head.

" _No_."

That was pleading – not a command whatsoever, even though Max suddenly realized she could have given her one.

"I can't do that." She presented her wrist again to emphasize, "We're meant to be together. What more proof do you need?" Clearly just running out of words at this point. Not that she said too many in the first place. This was just not something Max knew how to fix.

Same as Rachel, but she at least had her rejection-solution, and glanced at her wrist once again.

"Look… _maybe_. But definitely not like this. I'm sorry, Max. I- can't do this. I'll just… I'll go."

Though as Rachel approached the exit, Max managed to find some words again – probably out of desperation at this point, because Max rarely had herself at the top of her priorities.

"What about me? _I_ need this. Just as much as you do even if you say you don't."

Rachel sighed in response.

"I'm sorry. You're just as unlucky as I am. I can't do what the writing says. Just try to forget it ever revealed anything."

Max had nothing more to say to that. Not now – not before she processed this and went over what actually happened. But by that time Rachel was already gone.


	3. The Point of No Return

...

...

"..."

"... You're a sub."

...

"And Max is a dom."

...

"And Max is _your_ dom."

...

"And you're her fulltime pet."

Rachel's eyes rolled so far up her head they actually started hurting. She snatched her arm away from Chloe a bit too forcibly.

"… You weren't kidding. Holy crap."

Rachel plopped down on the bench and sloppily grabbed the bong from the table. They always kept one stashed at their junkyard clubhouse for situations like these. Same as the weed that went into it and the lighter Rachel used to fire it up.

Chloe just stood and watched, seemingly unable to compute for a while. Rachel took an unusually strong hit and offhandedly offered the bong to Chloe, not really looking at her. Chloe never hesitated when it came to weed of course, and within a brief moment she was sitting beside with a long smoky exhale.

Rachel shook her head.

"This is just… the universe is mocking me. It couldn't wait a little bit to match me up with you but then it made me wait for almost 15 fucking months to get… this."

The following silence and Rachel's irritation weighed down the air. She'd told Chloe about everything before this emergency meeting, but Chloe's gears just couldn't spin the right way to wrap her mind around the idea.

Though even when they finally did, there was the fact that Rachel was so very against it. That was super counter-intuitive - and Rachel obviously needed help. Chloe wasn't sure how to approach this.

... Maybe as usual. By throwing a mental dart at a mental ring of options.

Optimism? Why not.

She sighed, eventually.

"… It's Max though, Rachel."

Glass half full. It's not that this reveal made Chloe feel particularly happy either, now that she was thinking within its context, just… it was kinda nice that Rachel got Max, at least. Of all people. That wasn't a bad thing at all. In fact, that was probably the best thing that could happen, other than matching up with Chloe in the first place.

Rachel sighed back, a bit forcibly, but more understandingly this time – it didn't come out of irritation like everything did before.

" _I know._ That's not the problem. It's the role and the rest of this bullshit."

Chloe could somewhat understand the feeling. Or she thought she did, at least. She was in the same situation when she was assigned to Megan. That felt life-ruining to her then. This probably felt life-ruining to Rachel now. Never in a million years would Chloe have guessed that this is what Rachel would be assigned. The same way she never would have guessed they wouldn't be each other's soulmates.

"Yeah… that's pretty crazy."

The bong was put down as she shifted closer to Rachel to snuggle up a little and comfortingly wrapped an arm around her torso.

Another pause, letting Rachel soak up a little bit of that affection. Rachel always kind of just dove into it whenever Chloe offered it. Chloe enjoyed it as well, though the enjoyment was hardly the focus.

"… Are you sure that's not… something you've always quietly wanted?"

"You _know_ it's not."

...

... Yeah. The whole idea was still pretty stunning to think about. And... made little sense.

"… Well that just can't be right. Like, by design, right?"

Chloe withdrew that arm to sit a little more straight and face Rachel more, though didn't cease the touch, instead just comfortingly leaving her palm on Rachel's side and kind of holding onto her.

"Before my reveal I'd never openly said or wished to be a showgirl. But I ended up doing lots of things that I always found pretty exciting. Can't you think of a single aspect of being a pet exciting?"

There was another moment of that silence. When it came to introspection shit, both of them often needed extra time to process things. Especially if it came to looking for desires that neither of them were sure were there.

Rachel eventually inhaled as if to speak, but… no words came out. Instead, she just let out a small defeated huff as if out of frustration.

"I… no? _–Maybe?_ I don't know. I've never even thought I'd be a _sub_."

Chloe suddenly gave her a playful shoulder bump.

" _I did_."

Just total autopilot mode there. Probably a bit inappropriate given the situation, but that's how they always interacted. It just couldn't be any other way.

Rachel scoffed slightly in response.

"Shut up. And no, you didn't."

At least that gave Rachel a tiny little smile.

Chloe huffed a little bit in return. Though… Rachel wasn't wrong.

"... You're right. But my point is, the thing tells you what you'll be most happy with, even if you can't imagine it at first. Remember how it was with Megan? Look at me now. I've never thought I'd say that before we get out of this dump but I think I'm… actually kinda happy."

She became a little thoughtful for a moment, the playfulness subsiding in a sobering pause.

"... Even though that's mostly not thanks to her."

Rachel finally raised her eyes and looked into Chloe's. Their gazes locked for seemingly longer than a few seconds, as if they just didn't need words to communicate past what was just said.

Rachel then wrapped her arms around Chloe's elbow and tugged her back into the snuggle again, sighing as she rested her head on her shoulder.

They remained like that for a little while.

...

Though Rachel, of course, had more on her mind especially after that the weed started kicking in and making her more relaxed and thoughtful. Eventually that thoughtfulness earned release in the form of calm words.

"I think we're cursed. –Not. _Cursed_ cursed, but more like… For some reason the universe just doesn't want our lives to intertwine. And for the life of me I cannot understand it. Weren't we happy together as we were? Or as we are? Does it think that it could make us happier than that by separating us?"

She shook her head a little.

"That sounds like such bullshit... Why would it even care? Somebody up there probably just wanted a punching bag to play with. Or two. And we just happened to be the first candidates for the job."

That easily prompted some nostalgic thoughts in Chloe, perhaps by accident. It was hard not to think back to their happy times with each other in the context of reveals. Would Chloe say she's happier with Megan now? Not… necessarily _with Megan_. More with Megan _and_ with Rachel in her life, even if they had different roles, and Rachel was no longer her lover. And Max, even, was a significant contributor to that happiness. Even if it was hard to get the old Max back.

Maybe sometime in the future they'd find that they really are more happy than they thought they were. Once everyone is settled into their role and all of them are a part of each other's life. Chloe really couldn't see it any other way. To her, even if Megan was her other half, her soulmates were still Rachel and Max.

And the idea that this reveal somehow meant that they won't be together anymore didn't really make much sense in Chloe's head.

"... I dunno."

"All of that cosmic bullshit aside… I don't think that we can't make it work. We always have, and…"

A little shrug. Rachel took it as a que to raise her head and give Chloe a little bit of space.

"... it doesn't mean that we can't be together."

"It does though. Don't you see?"

Rachel pulled away some more so they could semi-face each other again.

"If I just went with everything on there…" she hinted at her wrist "… how do you think our life would go? Would I be able to go to LA with you? My role means that you would have to convince _Max_ to go so she can _bring_ me with you. What if she wants to go somewhere else anyway?"

"And even if we all make it to LA, what would you do with me if I was just a pet? Walk me around the beach every morning? What's the point? We wouldn't be able to hang out like we're hanging out now. We won't be _together_ in the ways we want to be together."

"And… what about my plans, too? I wanna live. I want a career. I wanna go out and party every weekend, and dance and drink and just have fun. Can I do that when I'm on your guys's leash 24/7?"

Rachel sighed.

Somehow, it wasn't a sigh of total defeat or desperation like it was before. Maybe it was the weed calming her emotions now, or maybe Chloe's closeness had that effect. Realistically probably the combination of both… with a pretty calming realization that popped up just now.

When put like Rachel put it, ignoring Max and all the bullshit, everything seemed pretty obvious. Rachel can't become a pet. That's just that.

And Chloe… understood where Rachel was coming from, here. It was, indeed, pretty obvious what Rachel was afraid of. Some things were something Chloe couldn't fix, but she wasn't sure they needed fixing. Others… she saw much more differently.

Figuring out how to explain required an extra moment of thought.

"... I still don't know. The way I see it, we'll still be together. I don't care if you're a pet or an owner or the president of the world. I've made my promise and I'm not leaving you. No matter what. LA or… wherever we end up."

That earned another sigh from Rachel, with a little hint of a smile. Though as nice as it was to be reassured in Chloe's unconditional loyalty, it only fueled the discord in Rachel's head.

Yeah, maybe it doesn't matter what they do as long as they're together. Megan happened, and Rachel and Chloe only adjusted their relationship instead of letting it fall apart. They still have something special, even if effectively anything sexual and most romance was left behind. It turned out that Rachel didn't even _need_ these things from her. Just being with her was enough.

But at the same time, these assignments might just not be the keys to their lives. Maybe they are for the rest of the world, but Chloe and Rachel managed to forge such a strong bond without them, and they've already committed to each other just as strongly as those who were matched. Do they really need an official matching at this point? Maybe all of it **_is_** bullshit, and they could find their own happiness without any stupid cosmic guidance.

Chloe thought she offered useful insight there, seeing that it gave Rachel something to think about. But there was more - Rachel was assigned to _Max_. Someone they both could trust.

"... And… partying and your career… I'm sure you can just work it out with Max. It's not like she won't understand. We both know her. I'm sure you can be like… a pet for every 3 or 4 days of the week, or something. And the rest of the time is yours."

"Hm."

Unlike before, for Rachel there wasn't much here to think about.

"No. She wouldn't want that. Her writing even says so – her happiness is making me do this fulltime as strictly as possible. What's the point of doing it halftime or whatever? Then _both of us_ just won't be getting what we want."

... Yeah. Or- probably. Who knows. Rachel was so sure, yet Chloe found that hard to buy. What Rachel said made sense even with the iffy logic. Just… picturing Max being so strict and unrelenting felt pretty weird. Even in spite of the reveal, well, revealing that she clearly had a strong side like that inside her.

There was a small sigh, and… it seemed like Rachel was calmly confident for once.

"I will insist that this won't ever work. She'll understand. I'll find my own happiness without any stupid pointers."

"If you're sure. I still think you should consider it some more."

Chloe wasn't… fully okay with that idea either. This was kind of a lose-lose situation. Either Rachel does what she doesn't want to do or…

"... Especially if your decision means that Max would have to search for it as well."

That wasn't the most pleasant thought. Max was her friend too, and by all means just as entitled to her happiness as Rachel was. Yet this was a decision made solely by Rachel, without much space for Max to chime in. That… kinda sucked, but. If it's so unacceptable for Rachel… maybe that doesn't matter?

This was a weird area. Chloe didn't know where she stood on this. Instinctively, probably with Rachel. But on a second thought, Max mattered as well, and depriving her of guaranteed happiness just because Rachel thinks that hers is a mistake…

Rachel's phone buzzed in the meantime. Again. It was giving off series of long buzzes, as if someone was calling, unlike the other brief buzzes Rachel has been getting all day. That's what made it noticeable for her to turn attention to it.

She picked it up and glanced at the screen. And it was filled with all kinds of notifications – there was a reason why Rachel put the thing on silent. They were all various variations of 'Congratulations!' and 'Wow I can't believe that you're a sub!' and 'Holy crap you'll be a pet!' spread across different social media. Thanks, Juliet. The last thing Rachel wanted right now was to answer these, or to even see them.

So instead, her eyes turned to the caller.

Max.

She probably called before too, but Rachel either didn't hear or didn't want to hear.

A part of her mind wondered if she should pick it up, while the other part responded to Chloe.

"There's nothing left to consider. That's just how it has to be."

Maybe... fuck it. Might as well let Max know that.

"Hey."

There was a little awkward silence. As if Max didn't actually expect Rachel to pick up.

"… Hey."

Or maybe she did, and just... choked a little. The last few hours weren't easy on Max too, because she spent them by herself, in her room. Thinking. Stewing. Worrying.

There wasn't really anyone she could go to for advice or friendly talk. Chloe was… already taken. And they weren't on as good of terms as Chloe was with Rachel, which was yet another thing that was mostly Max's fault – not necessarily because of the past, but kind of… indirectly because of it, as it was one of the things that kept Max from letting herself get closer.

There was Kate, but… Max already knew what Kate would have to say, even though she was a dom like her which _should_ make the issue more understandable. With anyone else. Kate just believed in the system a bit too religiously. Usually in a good way, but that somehow didn't inspire confidence in her ability to advise anything other than 'follow the instructions, they can't be wrong'.

Warren? They weren't really close enough for something so personal. And he probably would say the same thing, only from a scientific point of view. 'Every single studied case of following the instructions to the letter had resulted in a positive outcome for all parties involved'. Like that's going to help.

Parents? Telling them is… a separate issue. They didn't even know what friends Max had here, besides Chloe. It's just too much to explain.

So Max was left to think of her own ways to handle things.

And it resulted in more silence. Despite Rachel's seemingly confident decision, neither of them exactly knew where to start, or whether they should be the one to do it.

Max eventually figured that she should, though. She called Rachel in the first place anyway, and she had thought of things she wanted to say before doing so.

"Um… Can you… come by my place so we can talk? I'm still here."

"I'm not at Blackwell."

...

"... Oh."

That probably came off mean if not – knowing Max – confidence-crushing, even if Rachel didn't mean it that way at all. It's not like they were enemies or upset at each other. It wouldn't help anyone if Max was feeling like that.

So Rachel's tone lightened significantly.

"I just had to get away from everyone and clear my head. And my phone was exploding. Thanks to Juliet."

Max's voice kinda picked up a little bit of vigor, hearing that Rachel at least wasn't alienated to her, and whatever that was was not as bad as it seemed.

"Oh. Yeah. Mine was too, for a little bit. So many people can't believe that I'm your dom. Or that I _am_ a dom. I still can't quite believe it either…"

There was another pause – it was clear Max was nervous about everything. She inhaled a bit, and Rachel could hear that she was about to say something, but-

Rachel sighed, breaking that pause before Max managed to say anything. Realizing that there was no point in letting her anyway.

"Look, Max, I haven't changed my mind. I know what you're gonna say. You understand that I'm afraid, you understand that it's very life-changing, you aren't gonna push me and you're ready to give me time, and the reveal can't be wrong and we're meant for each other. I know. I get it."

Her eyes went to Chloe for a moment. Chloe was just watching and listening. Neither of them considered this a matter too private to keep from each other – they kind of didn't have matters like that at all.

"But I can't do it. That's got nothing to do with the fact that it's you. You're one of the few people I wouldn't mind matching with. The problem is the role and how it ruins everything I worked for. Me _and_ Chloe. And even you to some extent."

A heavy yet determined breath.

"I've spent a whole year figuring out what I want to do with my life. I've made plans. I don't wanna give that up for something that I don't even want. I'm sorry if that forces you to go through the same process of figuring shit out and living it afterwards, but I just don't see another way."

"I could go on and give you a thousand more arguments, but I don't see a point. I know you understand. So… just. Let's skip all of that bullshit, be friends, and try to forget about the roles."

"Alright?"

Unsurprisingly, there was a pause after that. Rachel… summed it all up quite well. It actually felt a little unfair to Max to a small extent, because Max didn't get to use the arguments herself, and Rachel was prepared to reject all of them. And of course, her points were reasonable too. More or less.

Still, understandably so.

There was a sigh.

"You're right. I understand."

There was one thing she didn't think of though.

"I know this isn't what you want right now, and it's really hard for you to imagine changing your life like that. But. Hear me out. Maybe that's the whole point of our instructions? You're supposed to be loyal to me no matter what. I'm supposed to do things even if you don't want them. So… maybe it's telling us that we have a challenge to get through to be happy? Like, our instructions are encouraging us. Yours wants you to be loyal and _trust me_. Mine wants me to be confident in binding us together despite all of our fears and doubts. We just have to try and get through it, and we will because it wouldn't tell us to do something we can't do. And once we do, we will be happy. Right?"

There was a little pause. Rachel didn't really think of it this way, and while it was something to consider – perhaps not too seriously, since her decision was pretty much already made – Max came up with more things to say.

"... But I don't wanna force you or ask the school for help or anything. I want you to try to trust me. In small steps, if that's what it takes."

...

That… final part actually landed very wrong on Rachel. She was kind of already looking for a way to justify her position in the new frame that Max gave her, but Max's following words prompted some very unpleasant thoughts.

Asking the school for help. To enforce it. A scary possibility that Rachel didn't really consider until now.

It was pretty sobering.

"Um… -look. I'll think about it. I just need some time right now. I'll talk to you later, alright?"

It felt a little abrupt, but getting Rachel to at least consider was something Max could be happy with.

"Okay. Um. See you?"

"Sure."

Rachel seemed a little off now that she hung up. It was easy for Chloe to notice.

"What's wrong?"

She hesitated there, kinda clutching her phone with a thoughtful gaze that in a moment turned back to Chloe.

"I… think Max just threatened to use legal force against me."

" _What?_ "

That came out as incredulously as it could possibly could. And as a result, it kind of snapped Rachel out of some thinking – perhaps _over_ thinking.

"No, -I mean. Not _threatened_. She just kind of implied it, I think by accident, but… still…"

Rachel placed her palm on her forehead again, releasing a bit of a sigh.

"Fuck…"

...

"... I didn't even consider that like… her instructions. She could justify actually forcing me. If she decides to. And everyone will back her up."

Rachel groaned weakly and slumped down. This was pretty bad.

Chloe though was not particularly concerned about that. In fact, she felt pretty confident in the opposite.

"She wouldn't. It's _Max_. Come on, Rachel."

Her reaction and fear was understandable, but really. It's Max. Chloe trusted Max. She was sure Rachel trusted Max too, at least outside of all of this.

And she did. Precisely outside of this. Maybe it was just everything coming down at once and fucking with her mind. Maybe it was experience of just dealing with people. But Rachel really couldn't see this as anything other than a constant threat – not a directly voiced or even promised one, but one that effectively threatened her life as she knew it, regardless of what Max was thinking right now.

"... Why wouldn't she though? Unless she agrees to sever the bond, which I'm pretty sure she's not going to. If she assumes at any point that I'm planning to, or if she just gets tired of waiting and trying everything but this – why _wouldn't_ she force me into the role? She's _literally instructed to_."

The next sigh had noticeable hints of desperation, but before it turned into any more defeat, Rachel shook her head.

"I need to do something. Before it's too late."

Chloe was starting to get a little frustrated herself.

"Like what? You've overreacting way too much right now. Yes, Max has _the ability_ to do it, but she _wouldn't_. You _know_ her. _I_ know her."

Rachel groaned irritatingly in return.

"But it's still a huge risk! My _whole life_ is at stake here, and so is _our_ future. All she needs to do is to just snap her fingers. It's too much, Chloe."

She took a breath and tried to level herself out a bit, facing Chloe properly. There was an idea.

"Drive me out of town. For as far as it takes to break the bond. Then everything can go back to normal and we won't ever have to worry about any of this."

Chloe should have probably seen that coming, but somehow she didn't, and it was stunning to hear, so much so that she raised her hands in defense.

"-Whoa, okay-"

"-Chloe, please." Rachel cut her off.

"We have to do it before it's too late. We've always wanted to escape together. Please."

That was a bit too blatant of a manipulation attempt, and Chloe, who is usually not super keen at catching these things, caught this one pretty easily. And the fact that she did only highlighted Rachel's desperation, if she was resorting to this.

"-Rachel, stop. This isn't the same thing and- you don't have to do it in the most criminal and harmful way possible. Just go to Max and talk to her. If you really wanna sever the bond, she'll listen."

Rachel clenched her fists in frustration and let out another groan. It wasn't angry – the desperation was just that obvious.

"And what if she doesn't? What if she'll think that I'll try to sever it anyway and that compels her to go to the authorities to stop me? There's nothing I'll be able to do about it. It'd be too late."

"Chloe, _please_. I know it's not fair to Max but if you say she will agree to break the bond, there's no harm for us to do it on our own terms. I can't risk asking her. I just can't."

...

Chloe was obviously conflicted, but now, visibly considering. Rachel kind of had a point at the end there, as much as Chloe hated to admit that.

She also kept pushing too.

"Please. _I need you_."

And that made Chloe huff and close her eyes for a moment, raising a palm to signify stop, as if to block Rachel from interrupting her thinking. But that sort of achieved the opposite. Rachel needed her. These words were ringing through empty dark space she put herself into.

Rachel needed her. It was unfair to Max, but Rachel _needed_ her.

Fuck.

...

Fuck.

A heavy sigh was released. Chloe was not okay with this.

But.

"Fine."


	4. Damage Control

It didn't take long until the first signs have shown themselves. Every severing process begins this way – with a reaction to a serious violation that threatens the future of the soulmates' happiness. The forearm with the writing starts to glow red.

Rachel and Chloe had noticed that a few miles outside of Arcadia. It was easy to notice of course, since it was evening and it was dark. The only lights on their coastal highway came from the passing cars and Rachel's wrist itself.

Chloe wasn't happy about it. Neither was Rachel, really. Neither of them preferred having to do this. But Rachel saw no other way, and swaying Chloe to the same conclusion was only a matter of a few more minutes of persuasion during the initially reluctant trip.

Chloe was committed to this too now, for better or worse. She'd get Rachel through the entire process.

Normally, such matters were resolved in a controlled manner. Every bond had to be severed in its own way, because every bond is unique, but the main things of importance from a legal point of view were always the same. All soulmates within a bond must consent to its breaking. All of them must be supervised during the process for their own safety.

The process consisted of a few stages.

The first stage was sometimes encountered by people during their regular daily lives. Or, their kinky sessions, and the reasons were usually the same. Pretty much nobody ever had any safewords. Mainly, that was largely because there was no need for them, but it was also because if a soulmate was getting genuinely hurt or seriously distressed, or there was some serious discord involved, that by itself started threatening the bond, which resulted in a harmless red glow on their wrist. For many people that served as a literal red stop sign – usually to stop whatever they're doing and refer to their instructions.

The second stage was presumed to begin when the bond actually started getting damaged. However that worked internally - there were many theories. Effectively, the wrist's glow grew in intensity, and the wrist itself started increasingly hurting. This was an interesting area for research, because it took different amounts of time and people experienced different levels of pain before the breakage occurred, implying that different bonds have different strengths.

The final stage was pretty much the culmination and the aftermath. The bond breaks and the writing becomes dust. At that point usually the person loses consciousness for a few hours. But the moment they do, the bond is severed irreversibly.

It wasn't range-dependent. Some people could be on different planets, for all the bonds cared. The main cause for the severing is a serious threat that the future of the soulmates will not be as instructed, and no happiness would be achieved through those instructions. So the reason why this worked for Rachel, and not for Chloe – for whom it barely mattered whether she'd do shows for Megan over skype or in person - and why Rachel thought of this method specifically, was because of hers and Chloe's plans to escape to LA.

If they do, if they do it right now and _never_ come back, then the bond would break. And the more confidence Rachel felt in her readiness to never return, the more her wrist was hurting.

A couple of dozen miles later, the pain was getting noticeably hard to bear.

The recognized but unseen problem was that this worked both ways. Max got her red glow earlier that evening, and frankly, of course she did. Rachel was so super against everything. Maybe its appearance meant that whatever Rachel needed time to consider was ruled out as unacceptable again, and their thing just wouldn't work at all.

That possibility wasn't fun to think about, but. Maybe she needed to consider other options too? She was out on campus taking pictures already, just because she wanted to. Photography was the main reason why she even came back to Arcadia Bay. It was distracting, fun and interesting. Maybe she could get her happiness through her interests, like Rachel plans to do?

Though... it would suck if it had to come to that. … Right?

Not on its own, but… as opposed to owning a Rachel-pet?

Yeah.

It would. _Of course_ it would.

Fuck. It was just so opposite of Rachel for Max. Unlike her, the more Max thought about their roles and their future living them, the more she ended up wanting it, and realizing how much she actually wanted in terms of kink. The possibilities were nearly endless.

There are so many kinky things they could do together. Play games. Live the lifestyle. Have sex –- even though that was a bit awkward to imagine – not mainly because of the pet part, but because of Rachel being a close friend, both of Max and Chloe. Yet at the same time, sex with _Rachel_ was an exciting concept – she was so beautiful and awesome and amazing. And it was exciting to think of all the stuff Max could teach Rachel to do as a pet, how to please her, or- whatever. Even if it seemed rather impossible now.

And then there was that entire idea of being as strict as possible and pushing her kinks to extreme too.

Sigh. If only Rachel saw it this way and wanted it as much as Max did.

But wishes aside, Max was still new to this whole writing thing. Her wrist started hurting a little in a while, and she wasn't sure if that meant something or if that's just how this red glow thing worked. Interestingly, the red glow was getting brighter and more intense too. A bit annoyingly so, because it didn't help much with taking pictures.

… Same as the pain, which kind of just kept intensifying and took more and more focus away from the task.

Max started quietly suspecting that something was wrong, but didn't quite know what all of this bright red light and pain meant.

But someone else did.

For someone as eagle-eyed as David Madsen on patrol, there's little guessing between whether he saw a girl with a weird red flashlight or one that's getting her bond severed.

Unsurprisingly, with him this went 0 to 100 real fast.

Max was quick to learn from him what was actually happening, yet her instant instinct was not to believe this and call Rachel instead. Or Chloe, even. David stopped that, and instead, like usual, quickly started bossing everything and everyone around. Max was escorted to the nurse. The nurse was told to keep her eyes on her. A report quickly reached Wells. Through him, it also reached the police, while in the meantime David questioned Max about everything she knew, telling her to work with him through the pain before it's too late.

Max was of no help.

Wells and the police were.

The fact that David stopped Max from calling played a vital role here – if Rachel or Chloe had their phones still on – they did – and if Max called them, it could have given them the smart idea to turn the damn things off.

But that didn't happen, so for the police, tracking them was only a matter of pressing a few buttons.

Wells in the meantime did his best to keep all of this from getting scandalous publicity. Or any publicity at all – it's no surprise that the local officers were willing to keep this off the records to maintain the image of the academy this whole town was built around. Friends and favors. A single patrol was dispatched – one that was closest to the tracked location.

Chloe had to pull over at the sight of the cop car in her mirror. Not much choice there, since what's the alternative? A chase? Whatever the cops wanted might not even be related to their escape.

... Though neither of them really believed that.

And that kept the girls especially tense, since Rachel was barely keeping any composure through the pain and the intense red glow she had to hide under some thick cloth.

Of course, to the approaching cop it was obvious as hell.

Everyone knew. The gig was up, even if that hadn't been officially stated right away.

For some reason, the cop went through the usual ID confirmation and more communication first. It sort of was an opportunity, because at one point during that, Chloe looked back at Rachel.

She hinted at the pedal.

She hinted at the gears.

She hinted at the road.

Her eyes locked onto Rachel's questioningly, and… her own wrist on the wheel emitted just the weakest red glow.

This was probably as guilty as Chloe could've possibly made Rachel feel. Chloe was ready to risk everything for her – her future, her bond, her _life_ , for just a _chance_ to somehow magically escape from the cops and—

…

Now the priorities were easy to set.

Rachel slowly shook her head in defeat.

No.

It was over already. They'd been caught, and only seconds away from the cop returning to confirm that. Chloe already did more than she should have.

There is no point.

...

Things somewhat sped up from here.

Rachel was taken to the hospital to make sure that she didn't end up receiving physical harm. She spent the night there, with a guard right out the door, actually not being allowed to leave even after the next morning, and well into the afternoon. There was some vague assurance that her situation will be resolved somehow – without further involvement of the police, which should be a pretty good thing, if not a little suspicious.

Chloe was escorted back home, despite her almost aggressive desire not to be separated from Rachel. She was returned to David, who made sure to remind her how it wasn't the first time he saved her from the cops. And also how it wasn't mainly his doing, and how she was really lucky yet again.

Max was monitored for a while longer, then released back to the dorms when she recovered enough, and was exempt from tomorrow's classes – to free up her time to deal with the issue of Rachel, which obviously would have serious consequences. On the somewhat bright side, Wells reassured her that these consequences will be limited to Blackwell and won't involve the police 'if Rachel makes the right choice'. That sounded good, but whether it actually was or not, Max wasn't sure for not much longer - Wells eventually came up with... something Max found hard to tackle.

The situation was quite unique. Blackwell had never had a challenge like that before. Rachel Amber, the most exemplary student the Academy was proud to teach, the DA's daughter, was caught trying to sever the bond with her soulmate without any concern for their consent, their health, or the legality of the action.

She did it so openly, it was a miracle nobody other than a handful of people knew.

It was serious. Really serious. A sub tried to sever the bond in a school that gained most of its prestige from its extensive sub training courses and facilities. That's famous mainly because of them. The amount of damage such a scandal would cause would be far greater to the academy than almost anything else Rachel could do. Or anyone.

Something had to be done, but Wells was less than enthusiastic about his options. Proper process would cause irreparable damage to Blackwell, not to mention the fact that they'd be losing Rachel as a student on top of everything. Covering everything up and letting everyone go would simply delay the issue, even _if_ he could do that in the first place, which he definitely couldn't. How long until Rachel tries to escape again? What would stop her? And aside from all of that – a student does not simply do _that_ and get away without any consequences. And aside from even that – there are greater factors at play, too. Rachel's dad. Rachel's record being essentially spotless. Her own interests, even. So many factors to consider and balance out. The obvious options just weren't options here.

Wells had to get creative to let as little damage come to Blackwell as possible. That's why everything took so long – all the consideration, the arrangements, the legality, the politics – a good bit of negotiating with Rachel's dad to figure out _something_ that wouldn't completely ruin her life forever - and finally carrying out the expedient realization of everything into something that might work.

Well, not just work, but maybe even turn the loss into a win.

Ray was always resourceful like that. Everything he did was always for the betterment of the Academy. Somehow, he saw an opportunity here too. In an ideal scenario he could hit two birds with one stone, and maybe Blackwell would only end up benefiting from all of this. If things go smoothly with Rachel.

So it was well past noon when he finally showed up inside Rachel's guarded hospital room.

She was sitting by the window in a chair with some tea. Somehow, after so much time worrying and thinking, being afraid of her future yet somewhat confident about the cops' reassurance, Rachel was feeling mildly hopeful.

Or maybe she was just too tired to feel anything else.

Wells came in with a briefcase, and after a small greeting with an obligatory inquiry about her health, took a seat across the small table opposite of Rachel.

He leaned in a little and placed his elbows on the table, entwining his fingers and supporting the rest of his weight. It was as if he was trying to express the gravity of the situation through his posture – all weighted down yet powerful as befitting an authority, calm, yet very serious.

"Ms. Amber…"

Rachel was pretty sure she knew what she'd hear now, though that didn't stop her from matching the seriousness with respect and attention. At least, having a good idea of what's to come was somewhat helpful with fear management. It's not like she was afraid of the unknown. The known... was becoming something she had no choice but to accept, rather that something to fearfully avoid. And while that idea still didn't lay well with Rachel at all, having a whole day to think about acceptance and find positives somewhere was helpful as well.

"What you've done is a serious crime that put us all into a very difficult position. The situation calls for appropriate consequences, and as the principal of Blackwell, it is my responsibility to deliver them. However, the uniqueness of the situation allows for some leeway, which gives you an opportunity to make a choice."

"I'm sure you have plenty of your own ideas of how these events would normally proceed with the involvement of the police and wide public exposure. But before I give you an alternative, allow me to voice that process to relieve you from the pointless guessing and uncertainty."

His words were slow and weighted as he continued to explain – it was as if he was another person, kind of, one that Rachel wasn't really familiar with. But the feeling was sort of understandable. The familiarity with this kind of Wells or this kind of authority was more of a Chloe thing, since she was the one to always get in trouble and have her punishments spelled out in the most serious and dread-inducing manner. Rachel was less experienced with these conversations. But it was easy to feel how much blame and responsibility his words implied.

"The nature of your bond prevents you from receiving most regular punishments, given that your bond reveals enjoyment of strict limitations of freedom, and because separating you from your Dominant obviously leads to severing the bond. You will not be jailed to await trial, nor would putting you in prison be an option afterwards. Instead, you will be treated as a priority case, and tried almost immediately. As most cases like this go, the guilt is easily proven, and the judge will value your bond and your dom over your interests. You will most likely end up losing all of your individual rights. Freedom, ownership, education and so on. Instead, your soulmate will acquire full legal possession of you, as well as government support in cases of enforcing her will upon you – trackers, shock collars, different means of punishment. Your life will be forcibly reshaped in a way that leaves living by the wrist instructions your only way to have a life at all."

He paused, finally. Rachel was kind of… some of this was expected, but… when this was an actual possible reality, right in front of her, a single decision away, for a moment she felt like she was in an inescapable box. But only for a moment. Of course, this was a consequence, but what Wells described was worst of the worst. As someone with a spotless record, no priors and a DA dad, Rachel wouldn't get this harsh of a punishment. Or... _shouldn't._ That's, at least, something Rachel was more or less sure about. Even if his words have hurt that confidence pretty significantly.

"… Now while this kind of life does not prevent you from achieving happiness, it usually takes years of exhausting life until any progress towards it is made. I would assume that that is not what any reasonable person would want, especially with ambitions like yours, whether they tried to sever the bond in the first place or not."

Rachel didn't keep eye contact there. She kind of just shook her head a tiny bit to confirm his assumption. Wells though, remained silent, and Rachel kind of read it as his intentional way to let the heavy words hang so that she may process them in her head.

Though frankly, Rachel preferred not to. That was not fun to think about.

She looked up, eventually.

"You said there's an alternative?"

"There is, Ms. Amber."

There was a bit of a pause. Rachel kind of caught a vibe that Wells was about to sell something, and was looking for a way to bring it up in the most appealing way possible. Perhaps that truly was the case, or maybe he simply wanted to add weight to his words yet again.

"I want you to understand that I wouldn't be having this conversation if anyone other than _you_ was sitting at the other end of this table. The Blackwell Academy recognizes your achievements, your excellence, and your tremendous contribution to the student community. Your status here is exemplary, and you are still a shining example of admirable scholarship, despite this… shall we say, misunderstanding. It is only right if Blackwell caters for your interests as well as its own in this situation."

He paused again a little, as if recalling something.

"… Judging by what Ms. Caulfield had told me, I presume that your main concerns revolved around your opportunities in the future as well as your education and the pursuit of your interests. Is that correct?"

He was definitely trying to sell something, and even though Rachel felt some kind of unpleasant condition coming up, she liked what she was hearing here. It sure as hell was better than the idea of losing all of her rights and being just a thing somebody owns.

She nodded to his question.

"The contract I'm about to give you is entirely for _you_ to consider. Ms. Caulfield has absolutely no influence over your decision, and her acceptance of the Dominant conditions is meaningless without your signature."

He spoke as he reached down to his briefcase and set it on the table, opening it and pulling out some papers.

"If you choose to accept the terms, I will not be compelled to relay this issue to the police, as there wouldn't be an issue to begin with, since all you did was tested the boundaries of your bond. That means that you will effectively retain all of your rights, and on top of that, you will be able to continue your normal education and graduate at Blackwell with excellence _after_ you're through with the contract-obliged studies. Legally, Ms. Caulfield will have to respect your choice and allow you whatever freedom you require to do so. Though she had also expressed her intent to cater to your interests in the future beyond, which is something I've no reason to doubt."

The documents were laid out on the table, and as Wells paused, Rachel glanced over them briefly. Her eyes picked out both curious and alarming words – 'rules' , 'training', 'restraints'…

Wells continued, drawing her attention to him once again.

"It may not seem like a good choice now, considering what you tried to escape from, but if I were you, I would try to see this as an opportunity for something greater, because that's essentially what this is. Blackwell had never had a model student – not one person since Jeremiah himself had truly represented the entire Academy and all of its values as well as its full educational capacity and potential. Honestly, I couldn't think of a more fitting person for the job than you."

Rachel eyed him suspiciously, squinting a little. She didn't get to start reading yet, though the entire fact that such an offer sounded like a polar opposite of the police-involved alternative was pretty confusing. She tried to escape, committed a crime, and now Wells was trying to... make her into some sort of school representative, or something?

"So… What exactly is the job?"

"Well."

Wells coughed a little, glancing at the papers himself. It's not like she couldn't read the details in the contract, but it's probably best if he gets to explain it himself, too.

"Mainly, to study and excel, as you already do, but without a singular profile, and within your submissive role. You will go through a personally-crafted course of almost _all_ of the training Blackwell has to offer, as well as unique additions for your special case, and mandatory extracurriculars. I'm not going to lie, it's a tough course that will require full attention and serious effort as it will encompass everything inside and _outside_ your school life, as you will find out from your Dominant."

"Your secondary task would be to represent Blackwell in public, by performing certain public services around the Academy and certain community work, by acting as a Submissive model for others to strive towards – sometimes literally, as I'm sure you'd find taking part in photoshoots and advertisements interesting…"

"But. Enough rambling. Please, take your time to read through everything yourself. I'm sure most of your questions will be answered on these pages."

Rachel was… not particularly satisfied with that, and his explanation kind of raised more questions than gave answers, but some things were clear at least.

That she will have to perform the role. And be trained to, no less.

Sigh.

It probably isn't too bad. It's not like Rachel did not expect this kind of consequence. Too early to panic. She took to reading quietly while Wells somewhat relaxed, leaned back on the chair and left his still gaze on something outside the window.

There were a few pages, most of them filled with different boring legal stuff. Rachel read through everything of course, even the parts that barely seemed relevant. And once she got to stuff that _was_ directly relevant, and actually told her what she'd have to do and how to live, that …

That was _… a lot_ of… hard work and... strictness.

…

 _The Representative Training Course (later referred to as RTC) takes place throughout several months, the amount of which depends on the Student's overall success. The minimum length of the RTC is 6 months, and additional time will be provided if the Student fails to succeed in any given field of study by that point. The RTC will not end until the Student passes every single class_ _ **not**_ _listed in the Repulsion Act._

That was both alarming and good.

The Repulsion Act included certain protections in regards to some of the more extreme fetishes – scat, gore, watersports and so on. Fetishes that, while being widely accepted and even having according training classes at Blackwell, triggered some instinctive repulsion in most people that didn't have them. So basically, nobody could legally force participation in those fetishes on people whose bond had no mention of them, regardless of their degree of commitment to their roles. Same applied to their public display.

It seemed like Rachel at least wouldn't have to be a part of that either. Something she kind of just assumed, but it was nice to have a written reassurance.

… Right next to the fact that the course will last _at least_ half a year. Frown.

 _The measure of success is determined by the consensus of each individual Trainer of the appropriate field with the Student's Handler according to Blackwell's highest standards. The Student may pass a class based only on the criteria's created by each individual Trainer and the Handler, or in certain cases by the Handler alone. Once the Student passes a class, they officially finish the training on that subject. Passing every class in the RTC allows the Student to return to receiving regular education._

…

 _The Student is required to participate in training-related extracurricular activities whenever those are available. They may choose not to attend two activities per month as long as they were not recommended by their Handler or insisted on by their Dominant._

…

 _The Student is required to participate in any Academy service assigned to them by their Handler, any Trainer, or any educational staff of Blackwell Academy._

 _…_

 _The classes by default will take place during the first half of every day except Saturdays. The Student is required to be at the training facility at 9 AM, and the classes last until lunch break. The Dominant is required to manage the Student's time and attendance in accordance to their classes, assigned Academy service, homework, extraccuriculars and the rules provided in addition to their contract._

…

That last part sounded ominous. But so did the rest of it too. Particularly training not to do just the stuff she liked, like the rest of the subs, and instead training to do basically everything, and even participating beyond classes.

There were a lot of thoughts now, and Rachel's head was kind of a mess when it came to thinking deeper and rationalizing and imagining what she was okay and wasn't okay with and valuing it all in comparison. At this point, she just needed to absorb the information, and, well… make sure that its better than the police alternative, which it still was, even if it by far wasn't an ideal one.

 _All of the Student's and their Dominant's needs in terms of training and gear will be accommodated by the Academy free of any charge, including otherwise paid services._

 _…_

 _The Student, as befitting their role, will relocate to their Dominant's living space for the length of the course, and their Dominant will take care of any physical and mental maintenance the Student requires throughout the training._

…

 _As a part of RTC's rigorous disciplinary training, the Student will be fully restrained in an appropriate petsuit 24/7 throughout the entire course. In addition, the Student will be gagged whenever their mouth is not required for sustenance, training-related practices, or certain acts of serving their Dominant._

Oh, fuck.

That-

Shit.

Rachel looked up at Wells in her little shock, but he simply kept looking out the window, paying no attention to her, even if she very obviously stared at him for a few seconds.

 _… The Academy is obliged to provide comfortable and safe long-term restraining gear including state-of-the-art technological features…_

This… this is serious.

… Why?

-Just…

Was this to make sure she doesn't escape again? Or is this because of their writings? Fetishes taken to extreme? Is this Wells' idea of a model sub?

… one that follows instructions to the letter…?

…

Rachel let out a shaky sigh. This was a pretty huge problem. Should continue reading though.

 _Both inside and outside of classes the Student is required to perform their assigned role at their best effort. Outside of classes, the Student is required to follow any rules provided by their Dominant, as well as the rules provided to the Dominant by the Academy. At all times the Student is required to display the best possible attitude reflecting the excellence befitting a Blackwell student._

 _Should the attitude consistently unsatisfy the Blackwell standards, the Academy may issue punishments separately from any Trainer, Handler, or Dominant-induced punishments._

Aside from the whole punishment thing which was just as unsettling as expected, it kept mentioning some other rules that Max apparently got. Rachel didn't see any of those in her own contract, and that was yet another reason to worry. Or would be, if she didn't stop seriously considering this about five sentences ago.

And as a result, Rachel only glanced past the remaining paragraph or so, since it just kept outlining all kinds of safety reassurances and details that seemed insignificant in the context of being restrained for over 6 months. That bothered her greatly – so much so that she had to bring this up as soon as possible. Hence the fast reading. Though there were a few noteworthy things left.

 _The Student will be restrained at the earliest opportunity after the contract is signed._

 _The Student and their Dominant will have 5 days to familiarize themselves with the rules provided to the Dominant and adjust their behavior accordingly._

 _The Student is required to begin attending classes the next day after the contract is signed._

All of which absorbed by Rachel without much emotion.

She finally put the documents down and Wells finally turned his attention away from whatever he was looking at outside.

"I can't sign this."

The intonation made the wordless implication of the contract being absurd, but nobody was surprised.

"… I thought you might say that at first. If you don't mind, Ms. Amber, please think back to the beginning of our conversation, when I told you exactly what will happen if you don't."

 _Holy shit._

Now Rachel's fearful and vulnerable reaction kind of made Wells feel like some kind of extortionist, which maybe was true to some small extent, but that was not at all what he was going for. Despite his nature, he wasn't lying when he said that he considered her interests. He did. This was, still, very much better than the alternative.

"Ah-I don't mean to sound threatening. I'm simply appealing to reason. Surely, as someone who is concerned about their future, you would easily recognize the obvious benefits of this arrangement as opposed to the alternative."

Rachel glanced down at the contract somewhat resentfully, and shook her head.

He had a point, but fuck did she not want to admit that.

"This can't be the only option. Are you seriously saying there's no other way?"

Wells let out a little huff at that, then placed his weight on his elbows on the table once again, doing the very obvious 'feel the gravity of the situation' thing that Rachel was starting to get annoyed by.

"I'm afraid not, Ms. Amber."

Bullshit. Ugh. She almost said that to his face.

She closed her eyes and shook her head again.

"You can't actually expect me to— Okay. The training? I understand. I'll take it, even."

That's not even something Rachel spent time considering, yet the argument felt like a no-brainer to make. Sub training instead of taking this to court and losing everything, plus an ability to do things afterwards. Okay. That's a deal. Even if it takes effort and hard work, fuck, that's a deal, and that's an argument she can bargain with.

"But you can't seriously expect me to spend half a year in restraints, living under some strict rules that—"

She flicked through some papers on the table.

"—aren't even stated here."

"Ms. Caulfield will explain those to you in due time... I'm not sure why the restraints are so surprising to you though, considering your lifelong role. Most pets, especially fulltime, usually wear some form of restraint on a daily basis…"

"But aside from that, pragmatically, I also need some kind of guarantee that… there won't be any more misunderstandings."

"So I'm afraid this is non-negotiable."

"Then what _is_ negotiable?"

The answer came out so automatically that Rachel barely caught up with the fact that she didn't contest this restrains thing further, and that she definitely should have - she _will_.

This was really stressful though, and while Rachel could normally work under stress, there's hardly a person on the planet that would be prepared to deal with this in an efficient manner.

To that question Wells did his old man cough-huff and pursed his lips a little, as if he said more than he should have. He readjusted his posture, even.

"Let me rephrase myself, Ms. Amber."

Pause. More of that words-weight bullshit.

"I've spent the whole day and a sleepless night trying to work out some way for your _crime_ not to completely ruin your life and jeopardize the image of Blackwell Academy. This contract is the fruit of that work, and these are the best possible conditions your father and I could create for you. Do not take them for granted. Like I told you before, if someone else was on the other end of this table, we would be having a very different conversation."

Rachel blinked. Her dad was involved? He worked with Wells to… make _this?_

Well- of course he would be involved, but… This is all he could get? How could he possibly approve this contract?

This was suddenly very confusing.

"You… negotiated these with my dad? And he was okay with them?"

Even though it was in Wells' interests to get Rachel to sign the contract as much as it was in hers, he was starting to lose grasp of the purpose of this conversation. He didn't really doubt that Rachel would choose the reasonable of the two. His presence here though only prolonged the process. He figured she needed time to process things on her own, so it was probably time to wrap this up soon.

"Mr. Amber did his best to make this conversation possible. Yes. It was your personal achievements and your large credit of trust that gave you this opportunity, but if it wasn't for him, we probably would not have an option that included your own interests as well."

He glanced towards the door.

"I still have the rest of this busy day ahead of me, so I would prefer to leave you alone now. Once you consider everything I trust that you will make the right choice."

He placed a pen on the table, then got up, picked up his briefcase and- Rachel kind of just watched him stupidly without pressing him further as he did. What was she even supposed to contest? Her dad was involved? Did he want her to sign this?

"Notify the guard of your decision when you're ready." he said before closing the door behind him.

He had a point, there. Rachel did need time to think, and frankly she was a bit too overwhelmed to press Wells further. Even if it felt like a missed opportunity to let him go without getting something out of him…

It didn't seem like he'd budge for anything.

Some time had passed. At first, Rachel felt completely overwhelmed and cornered – so much so that she instinctively had to get up and pace around just to prove to herself the fact that she still had the freedom to do so. She glanced at the window, she glanced at the contract, she thought about escaping again…

None of this was good. These terms were exactly the things Rachel tried to run away from. The crazy extremes of the fetishistic role on her wrist, completely turning her life upside down and turning it into—something else entirely.

Essentially permanent restraints. Constant pet life. Rigorous training. Some… -weird- requirements of service or whatever, strict rules, everything.

Everyone expected her to sign up for this life by default without any contracts. Because that's what her writing says. Because it _knows better_.

To hell it fucking does.

There was some groaning. There was some anger, even, though mostly in the form of frustration. After waking up in this hospital bed this morning with a guard outside, Rachel knew she'd have to accept something. She just really really hoped she wouldn't have to accept this much.

She re-read the contract, trying to find at least some kind of small positives.

There weren't many – well, there was a lot of guarantees of safety as well as her future – it was clear that Rachel would get her education and opportunities and whatever back after all of this. In fact, being a model student opened up even more opportunities, which was… a nice surprise. It _was_ a prestigious position and achievement after all, even if it really didn't feel like one.

Maybe it's not that bad…

But that thought crashed and burned every single time. The moment Rachel saw something nice, her eyes skipped up or down to the next strict rule under which she'd have to live. And it wasn't even guaranteed that this will last only 6 months. The whole contract kept stressing out how high the Blackwell standards are – what if she fails? What if this takes 9 months instead? Could it take a year?

There's no way Rachel would handle living like that for a whole _year_.

It boggled her mind so hard that her dad was okay with this. How could he possibly approve this contract? He must have had the influence to change it. He _always_ had her back. All of her parents did.

Sigh. If only they were here now...

Yeah. Rachel had no doubts in her mind that her parents would take her side no matter what she did. Hell, Sera especially – she broke her bond with James and Rose herself.

… Not that Rachel thought she was involved, or even knew. She might just understand a little better than the regular bystander if she somehow finds out.

But, yeah, her parents' history was bumpy. Sera… wanted her own life. She wanted to move forward into the unknown, all on her own, much like Rachel, but for reasons Rachel never truly understood. Maybe that's why she didn't and didn't _want_ to think about what would Sera do, or know about how she lives right now without a bond. Whatever she was doing and wherever she was, Rachel wanted to believe that her choices led her to a better life, because that way, back at the junkyard she could imagine hers doing the same.

But maybe she should have made contact with her somehow before escaping anyway – maybe she would have, if she had the time and wasn't too afraid and desperate to end it before anything forced her into the life she didn't want. Anything like this contract.

But Sera's situation was very different too. James let her go. Rose let her go. It was a mutual decision, and their writings and instructions weren't anything like Rachel's – she simply couldn't apply their experience to hers. There was no risk, there was no desperation. There were no mistakes. Their solutions couldn't have solved her situation. Rachel's… didn't either, but at least she tried.

Before, back when her parents made the decision, Rachel was very young. She didn't know about Sera until she was old enough to know. Her parents, her _dad,_ told her everything – that was the trust they had, it was pristine, and precious.

At one point Sera wanted reconnection. It wasn't easy, but what Rachel eventually found out was that all three of her parents shared love for her equally, and that that never ever changed, no matter their choices, or ways through which that love manifested...

Sigh. Maybe that was the case, and she simply didn't understand the way it manifested now. It's not like she could ask-

Wait. Rachel was… _arrested_ , right? Or something. She must be able to make a phone call.

Right.

The guard allowed it. Rachel chose to call her dad.

And that conversation…

James was always good at inspiring hope.

Of course, it started with the obvious question about the necessity of strictness and the rules and whether he could do anything about them – he expected as much, but regrettably, he couldn't give her any good answers. At least, though, they were somewhat satisfying – if her dad told her he did everything he could, Rachel trusted him. _Though accepting_ those answers was a whole separate issue.

It took more questions. It took more random ideas. It took a lot of bargaining – but none of that was on the table. Only that contract was, and James wished that Rachel didn't have to effectively put him through explaining everything in detail, knowing it'd only make it harder on her.

Of course, he spelled out the process with an understanding sigh – the bargains he made, the options that were available. How he managed to preserve her future. How he managed to preserve her reputation. How he plans to try his best to make this easier as this goes on. How he made sure that she could still see Chloe—

Fuck. That one was not even something Rachel had thought about until her dad mentioned it. Of course Wells would never want the person who helped Rachel escape anywhere near his model sub at any point during this 'important' course.

But dad assured her that they could still meet, regardless of any rules Max or the Academy sets. And that Chloe will not get any flak for being an accomplice.

He believed that Rachel will get through this. He knew his daughter – the pride of his life. He believed in her strength. He believed in her determination. He believed that this was only an obstacle, and not the end of the road.

For a moment, he inspired Rachel to believe it too.

Sigh. Of course he had her back. Of course he understood. Of course he knew that Rachel could do this – she was _his_ daughter.

And of course he did his absolute best to help.

… If only he could do a little more.

Sigh.

There was no alternative – taking this to the police was not an option at all. That much was clear. And after this conversation, the issue was not the choice or whatever bargains can be made – the issue was acceptance, because the decision was already made.

But how to approach that? Rachel didn't know.

It was an inevitability. Maybe she shouldn't at all. She might as well spend a little bit more time with her freedom, even if it was confined to this hospital room. Still being herself. Walking. Eating some leftover food and finishing that tea. Looking out the window. Laying on the bed, closing her eyes, trying to calm down and pretend she's somewhere else…

Damn. She'd kill for a joint now.

…

Sigh.

The empty line at the end of the contract was waiting. For Rachel. And Rachel was waiting for… nothing.

Sigh.

The pen finally made work of the empty space. Filling it with beautiful calligraphy of Rachel's signature.

Sealing her fate.


	5. Consequences, Part 1

As per my usual trend whenever I'm writing fanfiction, each new chapter grows in size exponentially. By the time I realized I was only 3/5 through my planned events, I was already at 6.5k words, which is a problem for many reasons.

So for the immediate solution, I've split this one into two. For the long term solution, I'm asking you this, dear reader:

Would you prefer shorter chapters (2.5-4k words, more frequent and more stable updates), or would you prefer longer ones (5k+, may easily take longer than a week)?

You can drop your vote here:  
.me/16166792  
Or simply comment on this chapter.

Also, in regards to comments, I always read and appreciate every single one. If you have any ideas or simply feel like having a conversation, whether it's about just kink or any story thing, I'll gladly entertain you.

And on a side note, I'm also open for kinky roleplay. But you gotta have some basic skill and /preferably/ be up for it long-term. Slide into my DMs if you're interested, my dude.  
Even if you're reading this 2 years after this note was posted.

./

It was getting closer to the evening. Somewhere around half past six – not dark, but getting darker. The sun was setting over the ocean, though you couldn't see much of it past the clouds that were covering most of the sky. Not the brightest of weathers at all. Fitting, probably. Rachel wasn't feeling the brightest emotions watching it from the back seat of a police car that took her to Blackwell.

This was her fault. She shouldn't have been so rash and decisive. She should have taken time to think, just as she told Max she would. It would have been enough to come up with a better plan to sever the bond.

Now? It was too late. She's going to get exactly what she tried to run away from, and much more.

… Did it really have to start immediately?

Sigh.

The car parked at the lot a bit away from everything. Rachel stepped outside, but the policeman remained close – she was to be escorted all the way to the facility.

And apparently, not just by the policeman. Max was there to meet her.

They shared a weighted wordless look, and each extracted their own meanings from each other.

Rachel was sure Max put blame into hers. Blame and… what looked like hurt? To some extent. Yeah. She was sure that Max would say all these obvious things about how Rachel shouldn't have done this and how she should have talked to her first and yada, yada, yada-

Yes. She knew. She didn't want to go through that conversation. She _fucked up_ , yes, but she wasn't _wrong_. Her own look expressed as much – she didn't like where she ended up, she acknowledged the consequences, but didn't really think there was another way.

Even though that wasn't really Max's fault – it was the writing's.

Max read her own meaning from that look, of course. Rachel seemed to have a little… annoyed vibe, not outwardly so, but implicitly, as if she's more angry and displeased with having to deal with Max as a soulmate on a large scale rather than defeated and weak because of where she ended up. On the other hand, that obvious defeat and weakness certainly showed too, just through the weight of that look. Sigh.

 _Sigh._

Max didn't want it to come to this, of course. She never meant to make Rachel unhappy or force everything onto her in such a way. She thought Rachel understood that, and trusted her, but apparently she didn't, and it hurt, _hurt_ \- like – maybe Rachel deserved a little bit of this mess now. Just a bit.

But as for Max, Rachel got herself into the mess that Max would – frankly, be okay with, kink-wise, if Rachel was okay with it as well, but she wasn't and this was forced and so very strict, and there was nothing Max could do about it.

Her look expressed all of that at once, so it was hard for Rachel to catch that latter detail.

Rachel eventually closed her eyes and let out a tiny sigh, shaking her head a little and joining Max to somewhat reluctantly walk the path towards the training facility.

Her voice was very neutral here, in the very exact sense of the word.

"Where's Chloe?"

That took Max a little off guard, but it at least felt like an effective icebreaker, breaking some of her own ice. Whether Rachel intended that or not.

"She's um… on house arrest. Until tomorrow."

Or so she heard from the police. She didn't get to talk to her after everything yet.

Rachel only acknowledged the answer with silence. Their walk continued on – it wasn't a long distance until the facility, since it was just a bit away behind the main academy building, yet Rachel was walking understandably slowly, and Max's gait sort of adjusted automatically.

There weren't any students around, perhaps a little surprisingly, perhaps not. It was close to evening and in the middle of the week – plus, not many people hang outside the training facilities after the classes in the morning. Inside? Sure, there are plenty of circles and random extracurricular stuff for active practitioners in the afternoon. Though they end at six, and it was past six, so the place was as empty as it could be.

Rachel would have to attend that, too, studying almost all day, essentially. And how does homework even work for a fully restrained pet? Or any sub for that matter? Rachel never bothered to ask the subs-in-training she knew, in the rare chance that she was able to. Because normally subs that took training courses were of a more involved kinky lifestyle kind, which by default hindered interactions with an unassigned Rachel before. Another thing she didn't want to happen to herself. To not be able to hang out with her friends because of her role.

Thinking of that homework stuff, though… she knew some public-service-fetish people often had to do some obviously-homework stuff, like asking other students to give them some pain, or some body part to worship.

But- ugh. She didn't want to think about having to herself.

These thoughts put a lot of silence between now and her question. As they walked, it just didn't lay well with Max. Are they just going to not talk about anything at all? Is this just going to be a forced unwanted thing, forever?

Max wasn't happy with what Rachel did, but fuck, they were friends before soulmates. That's not gone, is it? What happened to it?

Eventually, Max gently took Rachel by the elbow, carefully halting them to a stop. The policeman stopped a distance behind them.

They exchanged a much less weighted version of that look again. But this time Max did not remain silent afterwards.

"Rachel, why did you try to break the bond?"

Her voice was surprisingly non-blaming here, as if she was more drained than anything, and so direct probably for that reason. Disappointed with what Rachel did.

"You could have just talked to me. You know I'm not your enemy. You could have trusted me."

There was a little sigh-huff. There it was, The Topic. There were reasons why Rachel didn't want to go through it, and it was easy to feel them already, just from the tip of Max's words.

Max was feeling betrayed, undoubtedly. Rachel didn't want her to feel like that, but she made her, and now it was hard not to feel guilty, no matter how right she thought she was.

Her eyes traveled down and away a bit. She trusted Max. Or she _thought_ she did, at least, but… obviously she didn't. Not when it came to something that mattered. But what were her options? She knew the risks, and the risks were deemed too great.

The eyes returned.

"Would you honestly have agreed to break the bond if I just came to you and asked you?"

Max hesitated a little. She didn't want to lie, nor saw the reason to.

"… No."

"Not- _right away_. We could have tried _so many_ things first. If not any of the kinky stuff, like… just being _soulmates_ , without any roles. Being close, being _together_. You're one of my two _best_ friends. Maybe _that_ would have worked on its own."

There was a little disappointed shrug.

"… But if it wouldn't have, then… sure…"

Rachel sighed.

She didn't really know what she was supposed to think here. What was the right call? Continue insisting that Max would have eventually forced stuff anyway? Continue _believing_ that?—She wasn't sure she did or wanted to, anymore.

Of course she would have accepted these terms if she could rewind time – to just try being soulmates. If she knew for fact that Max wouldn't force anything despite being cosmically instructed to. Maybe _that_ was the problem. That there's no way to know that – only to believe and trust.

She shook her head weakly.

"What's done is done."

Max kind of pursed her lips a little, but yeah. Nothing to argue with there. She gave Rachel an understanding nod, even if it brought a too-quick end to their conversation.

They continued walking at their slow pace, but eventually Max had more to say.

"I just… I want you to try and trust me, Rachel. We're soulmates, after all. Right?"

Rachel just gave her a weak accepting shrug and let out another sigh. Not like she had a choice anyway.

Max wasn't particularly satisfied with that reaction, but she figured it's the best she's going to get. In any case it was better than an angry and resentful Rachel. Even though it wasn't great to see her be… so defeated.

"I'll try to make it as easy on you as I can. I have to be very strict, but I'll try."

"Sure."

Just as neutral and accepting as that shrug.

Max just continued walking. Didn't look like there was any point in further talk.

Eventually they reached the training facility. It was the same type of building as the rest of Blackwell – red bricks with white outlines, pretty large in size – about the same as the main building in height, but wider and longer, with the same triangle-shaped roof, and shaped like an L, just like the dormitories. The courtyard, unsurprisingly, had a memorial in the middle – another smaller statue of some honorary person of Blackwell's past.

The shorter part of the L was at the far end, the middle of which rose above the rest of the building – a tower that served as the entrance like in the rest of the academy buildings.

Overall it looked more like the dorms if you ignore the size difference. The windows, too, were something inbetween the large panels of the main building and the small windows of the dorms.

A staff member was waiting for them at the entrance when they arrived. Some woman roughly in her late 30s that didn't look like a trainer – probably some maintenance worker or maybe a safety curator? Rachel didn't bother to look at the label, instead just looking around a bit, feeling more defeated as training here was getting closer to her reality. Max just focused fully on her words instead, since she was there to guide them through the 'process', and the policeman left them with her.

The foyer didn't look much different from the main academy's, except that obviously they weren't at the center of a rectangular building. The hallway to the right was behind some obviously-office doors, leading to the tip of the shorter part of the L. That's probably where most of the staff offices were. The hallway to the left had the familiar double-doors, indicating that that's where the classes were.

It felt a lot like just being in the main building at first, but when the curator took them down that hall, the differences became striking. While not losing the same Blackwell academic feel somehow, the most obvious difference was that this place looked and felt much cleaner than any other Blackwell building. Which was probably expected if some students had to crawl naked on the floor all the time. Everything about it seemed quite expensive too. The walls, the posters that seemed to depict different kinky practices, the doors, the other obvious difference - the lack of lockers along the walls, instead of which there were neat narrow alcoves between the class doors, which made the hallway feel noticeably wider than that of the main academy's.

Each alcove had something different in them. Firstly, unimaginably, occasional _benches._ Something for people to sit on in the halls during recess. Crazy. They looked like basic metal benches, but equipped with brown soft looking mattress pads on top. In front of them were little thin mats too, and… judging by what this whole place was about, Rachel got the impression that these were there for slaves to kneel on – those that were below everyone else. Human stools? Or maybe feet worshippers? The setup sort of implied that maybe there was some worship going on.

But the benches were just one thing. There were a lot of way more kinky looking things in the would-be locker space, mostly made of metal and somehow attached to the walls. There were occasional buckles in the walls, presumably to 'dock' people's restraints to them. Actually, some open cuffs hanged from a couple of those, so the assumption seemed correct. Then there were some contraptions that seemed to have a punishing purpose – they passed an alcove with tall and slim cages – standing cages by the looks of them, as they were way too small for a person to bend their knees and sit comfortably inside. There were some tools hanging on the wall beside – a violent wand, a gag, and some other stuff that Rachel quickly diverted her gaze from.

It was pretty crazy to see how well-equipped this place actually was, and that Rachel of all people would be diving right into the world of this equipment.

As for other punishingly looking things, they passed a metal dildo pole sticking out of the floor with some buttons at the base. Electric? To the sides of it - open cuffs that were padlocked to the floor, and inbetween those, two patches of spiky surfaces on the floor. Probably for whoever is impaled to kneel on. That earned a nervous sigh.

Rachel wasn't too opposed to mild pain, having tested some on herself with Chloe. It could be fun, but its extreme versions? That was scary to think about.

Another alcove hosted a line of rubber dildos sticking out of the wall with another one of those mats in front of each of them. Not hard to guess the interaction there.

Rachel didn't get a good look at everything, and there were definitely a couple more things there that surely kept recess interesting for people. Or painful for violators. They entered a larger room at the end of that hall, at the corner of the L. Not much kink besides posters – just stairs and elevators, the looks of which also spoke to how expensive the place was.

Interestingly, there were shelves with awards behind some glass, but Rachel's eyes didn't linger on that before following the curator further, into the longer part of the L now.

The hall in there was about the same as the last one in length, interestingly, implying that there was something else behind the doors at the end of it. Either more classes or differently sized rooms for different things. And it looked like there were a couple of people in the alcoves there? Though the curator said they're almost where they need to be, so Rachel figured she'd get a chance to explore the place later anyway. Not that she was very eager to in the first place.

They reached one of the side doors about 1/3 into the hallway, and as the safety curator took a moment to unlock it, suddenly there was a sound ahead – a little girly eek.

That instantly picked her curiosity, so Max and Rachel were told to wait a moment, which didn't make Rachel feel any calmer. She was about to be restrained, and they were already in this place. Just get it over with already.

But of course both Max and Rachel had to see what this was about. That's when they noticed – there was a naked girl in one of those standing cages.

Rachel thought she recognized her, even though she didn't wear her usual glasses… Stella?

She knew Stella from regular classes, though not very well, and from a while ago. They never hung out, they just happened to work on some school projects together. Rachel thought kind of highly of her initially, because she seemed very determined and passionate. But after a while of friendliness she kind of turned out… a bit too gossipy, as if gossip and drama were the main reasons why she was participating in the first place. Not that she started any, but somehow there was always gossip when she was around. Rachel didn't like that.

Sometime last year Stella got her reveal, and it was a tiny bit surprising that she was a sub, but past that Rachel couldn't recall exactly what role she had, or who she was assigned. Vaguely thinking back to it, it was probably some public stuff? And she was assigned to some guy from her hometown? Yeah… Rachel recalled that Stella wasn't happy about it at first. Some history back home or something.

But she was here now. Hm. He must have sent her to train here. Or maybe she's here because she already had the scholarship, and simply switched types of study.

Curious. Why was she in that cage now?

Rachel approached a little closer, and there was another eek – definitely from her because the girl jumped with it – as the curator asked her about it. The girl was naked, but not fully, as Rachel saw now through the bars. She had a metal chastity belt locked onto her. Many subs wore these, so nothing was uncommon there, except for maybe the addition at the back of the waistband, behind her back – rigid metal cuffs held her wrists there.

And _something_ was making her squeak, and it couldn't have been the belt. Perhaps something inside of it?

"Ask him." Stella nodded towards the opposite alcove.

There was another person in there. Some guy Rachel definitely didn't know. Naked too, kneeling in a metal pillory, with… apparently there was a fucking machine set up behind him. As the curator approached, it suddenly sprung to life for a couple of fucks, which surprised her just as it surprised Rachel.

Stella smirked at that, then turned her attention to Rachel, seemingly recognizing her as well.

"Hey."

"… Hi."

It wasn't awkward. Just kind of distant because Rachel had a lot going through her mind right now, and it's not like they knew each other well, aside from that. Rachel eyed her quickly, noticing something else on the cage now that the curator was away – a little white board with marker writing.

 _Sub: Stella Hill_

 _Violation: Unauthorized Self Stimulation (Repeat Offender)_

 _Punishment: Chastity belt. Standing Cage. Clit shocker (public-use remote)._

 _Duration: Caged until tomorrow's classes. Wrists restrained until 9 PM._

Is that how detention works here? That seemed pretty harsh. Having to stand in a cage all day _and_ night…

"She's got my remote." The guy replied in the meantime.

The curator got suspicious at that.

"And you've got hers?"

She kneeled down to him and tapped his fists, both of which were clenched until now. One of them dropped a small remote into the curator's hand. The guy grunted a little in annoyance.

"Hmph." the curator grunted back.

She walked back over to Stella and gave her a mean look, presenting her with an open palm as well. It seemed like absolutely nobody was happy with these interactions, because Stella's reaction was just as unsatisfied. Still, she shuffled inside the slim cage a bit to turn around and awkwardly bent her knees for as much as the cage allowed that so that her cuffed hands could release a remote into the curator's palm through the bars.

The curator took a step back and asked them both.

"Now who gave you these?"

Silence.

Rachel watched everything, and Max did too from somewhere behind. It was a little surreal. It's one thing to hear about this, to watch videos or advertisements, or to experience basic obedience on a daily basis – there were plenty of slaves in public, and generally people just did what they liked with their soulmates. Some not-fully-committed slaves or simply anyone with appropriate roles often took jobs related to them. One could probably have their feet worshipped at a restaurant or a lounge for example, or maybe touch and tease an exhibitionist. Or hurt a masochist a little. Either way – they were either in service of their own fetishes, by working a job related to them, or lived them with their soulmates.

Seeing people obey some school staff like they did and that curator having so much control over them was a strange sight. The curator was completely unrelated – not their soulmate or anything, yet here it felt like she was their dom, and the subs were allowed so little freedom in such a strict manner. For a moment Rachel caught herself feeling like she was in a jail.

But then there was a strangely late realization. Rachel would have to get used not just to _Max_ dominating her, but also all the trainers and that handler person. And even then, she'd be a restrained pet. Wouldn't she be dominated by basically everyone? Especially in whatever 'public service' she was contracted to perform?

…

She was starting to overthink this and she knew it. All because they were wasting too much time on nothing.

She cleared her throat quietly – it sounded pretty genuine even though it wasn't, and it attracted the curator's attention flawlessly.

"… You're lucky I don't have time for these games right now. But I'll make sure to come back and gag you both since you like silence so much."

She placed the remotes back where they're supposed to be – on little shelves next to the appropriate sub, and headed past Rachel back to the door she opened.

"Let's go."

Rachel followed behind, shooting one last look at Stella and the boy. She actually caught a glimpse of his board – he'd be in that pillory until 9 PM. Good for him. Poor Stella.

They entered the room behind the curator, and despite their expectations, it didn't look like a classroom at all. It was just a slim room with a single window, a couple of heavy-looking doors on the left and a wider doorless passage on the right. The place had more of these benches with slave mats and a few more docking buckles, but no punishment devices or anything. Just a bunch of different posters and an information board. Neither of the girls paid attention to those though, because the curator was talking.

She told Max to wait here, and Rachel was taken into that passage, which quickly turned into a smaller room with a few wooden benches. It seemed like a changing room – much like the one at the Blackwell pool, but obviously without any lockers. Instead there were shelves with various fluffy looking folded towels, which… seemed to have a string connecting each one to the shelf, probably so people don't steal them, but they were probably detachable so the staff could launder them, since they also seemed quite fresh and clean. Next to them were mirrors and hair dryers that were secured in the same way, plus smaller shelves for convenience – if subs had to wear makeup or whatever. They must have been required to bring that stuff with them on their own, if they were allowed any by their doms. Either way, the whole place had a very obvious bathroom feel to it.

Rachel was told to leave all of her clothes on one of the benches. There was a bit of a gulp, but it wasn't really unexpected. The curator unlocked another door in that room, which lead to showers. Rachel was to clean and shave herself, and take as long as she needs to do so. All the supplies would already be inside – and they were, once Rachel found herself naked inside a big empty looking room with a bunch of showers and drains. There weren't any stalls or curtains, probably unsurprisingly. But each of the showers had a set of hygiene tools, such as shampoos and conditioners and soaps and such.

Sigh.

Rachel wanted to get it over with already, but maybe a hot shower isn't that bad. Even if… it's clearly not for her comfort or enjoyment, and just for some stupid standard instead, because the curator specifically mentioned shaving her crotch, even if that wasn't much of a problem anyway.

At least there weren't any weird temperature settings on the showers. After a day in the hospital it certainly felt really good to have hot water run along her skin. Really good. Like… very calming and _oddly_ enjoyable. Maybe Rachel was automatically trying to savor the feeling and put significantly more appreciation into it, not knowing whether this would be possible anymore.

Of course, as showers do, this one made her a bit contemplative. That interaction with the subs in the hallway… it's just crazy to really understand the juxtaposition of this and her normal daily life. And that the two will be the same soon. It's a whole new school inside here. A whole different life – so far away from everything Rachel really knows and cares about.

Another defeated sigh.

She could… still try to escape. Somehow. One of the room's walls had windows – small ones all the way up by the ceiling, but still. Though… even _if_ she gets there somehow, it's not like they wouldn't instantly know through the obvious red glow that would show up on Max's wrist. And even then – where would she go? How would she get far enough away for the bond to break? They'll catch her anyway.

No. There's no point. It's over and it's better to just accept it and move on. Or at least turn her thoughts to savoring her soon-to-be-lost freedom…

… Rachel was so deep in thought that at one point she finally noticed that she didn't take off her feather earring. At least she didn't wet it much, but better put it away if she still had to wash her hair and everything. She poked out of the shower room to toss it to her clothes, but-

She blinked.

The bench she left them on was empty.

All of them were. Somebody took all of her clothes away.

That was … alarming. A little fearfully so, because- the thought of Rachel having to walk out there, completely and fully naked, just like the slaves in the hallway - not even allowed to wear any clothes, their bodies completely exposed and free for others or the staff to touch or to apply any of those toys Rachel saw along the way - the thought made her feel quite vulnerable.

Which is just- ugh. If _these_ thoughts are going to trouble Rachel, and just appear from something as small as not having clothes—ugh. She can't have these thoughts impacting her if she's going to deal with much more involved things. This is just the basis of everything. It shouldn't be a problem.

She tried to shake her head out of it. Just go back and take a shower and try to think less of it. Maybe get some energy back. Yeah. Enjoy the warmth while you still could.

…

Mindlessly.

It was well close to an hour since they arrived when Rachel was finally done. Things just took a lot of time – having to shave everything, having to clean everything very thoroughly. Rachel was always generous to herself when it came to hygiene. And on top of that, she just needed some time to enjoy the shower too. It was relaxing and calming.

Then, dealing with long hair took a bit of time, just by design, since these aren't quick to maintain. Combing, drying, combing again and so on. Interestingly, Rachel's initial instinct was to wrap one of those fluffy towels around herself after drying herself off, but obviously that couldn't happen. Perhaps attaching them to the shelves was meant to prevent people from covering up more than from stealing them.

Whatever. No point in pondering.

Inhale. Walk out.

Max's eyes widened immediately when they met Rachel's beautifully naked body. _Holy fuck_ was she gorgeous – her elegant and smooth curves, her _perfect_ shape, her flawlessly round and perky nipples - her naked crotch, her slim thighs, the dragon wrapped around her shin - her long blond hair, her sharp green eyes, even her beautiful blue feather earring – of course. Rachel wouldn't be Rachel without it.

Max's cheeks went into a deep blush at the sight before she realized she was staring and kind of awkwardly glanced around. She tried not to linger her gaze on Rachel for too long while her eyes simply returned to her anyway, despite any conscious effort to avert them.

There was a moment of silence again – no weighted looks, just both girls getting used to this change of dynamics. Rachel consciously decided not to cover herself up, but obviously didn't purposefully present any of her parts to Max either. She just kind of stood there normally, not even too expectantly, just absorbing her reaction.

It was… strangely endearing, warmly so. So far, the only person who had seen her like this before was Chloe. But Max just looked at her almost exactly the same way as Chloe always did. With that genuine blush and clear appreciation and maybe even a little awe. And that did not make Rachel uncomfortable.

It felt right, somehow.

She found herself feeling a bit calmer.

"So… what now?"

The extra calmness was reflected by Rachel's for-once not drained voice, which Max mostly read as a post hot shower effect.

"Um."

For now Max decided to just look Rachel in the eyes, or in the general direction of her face. Honestly, she felt stupid for doing so. She's her _soulmate_ , her _submissive._ They are _supposed_ to see each other naked – even Rachel herself wasn't covering up. But at the same time, until very recently Rachel was a very close friend. And she still is Chloe's. Practically, Chloe's unofficial soulmate, even.

That wasn't an enjoyable thought. Would Max have to worry about encroaching on Chloe's territory? Well- _obviously_. But it wasn't _just_ Chloe's territory anymore.

Better reconcile that fast.

Max stood up, approached one of those heavy doors that she saw the curator disappear behind a while ago and gave it a knock, glancing at Rachel afterwards and giving her a small shrug.

"Come in." vaguely came from the inside.


	6. Consequences, Part 2

When Rachel left to take a shower, Max just quietly waited on one of the benches.

To her, this place seemed… _really_ serious. Somewhat excitingly so, because she certainly didn't dislike what was going on here, and it was both a bit strange and pretty 'of course' to realize.

There was always a quiet little suspicion that… somewhere inside her, her kinky side was really strong. Even now, in the context of everything, whenever she re-read her wrist instructions, something inside her stirred. She never really dug deep enough into herself to explore it before, or dug into it at all until she came back to Arcadia and started to run into random Blackwell subs-in-training on a daily basis. Though even then she barely scratched the surface, and only ever saw herself in the context of becoming a sub, her worries mostly being consumed by… Chloe things rather than introspection. Being here, seeing all of this now…

She wasn't uncomfortable with any of this. It was interesting if anything. Surely Rachel could see it in the same way to some degree too, and not be completely freaked out – she had to have her own fetishes as well. Of course. Everybody has them. Even if Rachel's didn't necessarily involve being a pet, apparently. Still, it's gotta be at least interesting to have an opportunity to explore those fetishes in such an involved manner.

So maybe it all won't be as bad on her as she thinks.

The curator returned at one point, with what looked like Rachel's clothes. Max didn't find that too curious, simply because her mind didn't immediately connect it to the inevitability of seeing a naked Rachel pretty soon. She was asked if she needed a plastic bag to carry those, but Max decided to simply stuff them into her own messenger bag. There was just enough space.

The curator then disappeared behind one of the doors, telling Max to simply wait until Rachel comes out.

And… she really was taking a while. Max had her phone to play with, especially now that all the annoying congratulations and awkward attempts to talk to Max about Rachel have finally died down to zero.

But eventually she decided to take a small stroll around the room, since there was a bit of curiosity anyway.

There wasn't much in the room, though that info board had a lot of stuff on it. Mostly basic guidelines for safety, signs of distress or consequences of improper play. Purple skin, rope burns, tingling in the limbs, that sort of thing, with what all of that meant and general tips on how to prevent it, with pointers towards specific classes in this building for more detailed information.

Max had to take a week-long safety class starting tomorrow anyway, so there probably wasn't much point in learning those from random posters.

What attracted her eyes much more enticingly was a large advertisement poster – a tall dominatrix towering above her kneeling sub, tugging his leash and seemingly directing him to kiss her leather boot. Max's gaze lingered on that scene, suddenly seeing it… in a surprising new context.

That dom could be her.

That sub could be Rachel.

She caught herself thinking that, and diverted her gaze immediately but-

Isn't she _supposed_ to think that? Especially now?

Her eyes drifted back onto the poster. The sub had his arms tightly restrained behind his back. It was some sort of latex suit – similar to the one his dom was wearing.

Her gaze lingered there again, examining the leash and the way the sub was so obediently leaning down to kiss that boot… Her flow of thoughts returned to Rachel very naturally.

Max let out a little sigh, as if with a hint of longing. All of this thinking, the pondering of their assignments and roles in the past day… thoughts of the future, the sudden change of perspective from expecting to become a sub to being a dom…

Why shy away from the obvious? She wanted that sub to be Rachel. She was sure she did now. She wanted that dom to be Max. Yeah. She wished that Rachel could kneel before her like that—

-Wait.

Max blinked.

Rachel _will_ kneel before her like that. Actually. For real. In real life. Soon.

Her cheeks instantly flared up with a deep blush.

It was a _clearly_ arousing thought, but –fuck. She looked away.

And god she felt so stupid now for doing that.

Isn't it what subs _do?_ It's how being a _soulmate_ works. They will be in that situation at some point – it's clear, it's definite, it is _inevitable_. Why is she standing here and blushing like a massive idiot from the idea?

Ugh. Because Rachel is more than just-

-a pet. Maybe Max wouldn't blush if she didn't have to enslave one of her two _best_ friends and closest people in her life.

… But does that somehow make it wrong, if that leads to their happiness?

Max cut that thought off with a frustrated exhale and a shake of her head. These weren't fun thoughts to have, and an internal debate was the last thing she wanted to have. She thought about just closing her eyes and taking a moment to fully clear her mind, but instead they caught something else, a bit away from the scene that gave her so much trouble.

It was some diagram of the material of those rubber suits they were wearing.

Some technical reading. One of the things Max _knew_ she could fill her head with to get rid of unpleasant thoughts. Even if the topic of the reading wasn't photography unlike usual.

The diagram described how the technology allowed the subs to wear very restrictive restraints for practically forever without any complications… Actually. Rachel's going to get a petsuit made of that kind of rubber, won't she? Max should definitely know how exactly Rachel is going to remain physically comfortable if getting out of that petsuit is not going to happen in any foreseeable future.

So the basic gist of it was that the rubber wasn't really rubber in composition, even if it looked and felt that way, and instead was some sophisticatedly-crafted half-organic material that reacted to sweat – when sweat made contact with it, a chemical reaction turned it into a special solution with lots of essential properties.

It served as a lube, a proxy to keep the rubber skin-tight without damaging the skin. It negated the sweaty smell, since there was no sweat to deal with. It helped with temperature regulation. It served as a muscle tonic that basically _deleted_ cramps and soreness and whatnot – that's what made it possible for subs to remain restrained in otherwise uncomfortable and unsustainable positions practically forever. The solution artificially created an environment of normal unrestrained life, giving the tissues everything the covered parts of the body needed – exercise without exercise.

Except there was no source of vitamin D.

But that was solved in another poster. Supplements or special food for slaves and pets, containing everything they needed but couldn't get for whatever reason. Vitamins, nutrients, edible tonics, even some slightly questionably looking 'love' supplements – Max didn't know those even existed, but there was a tiny flash of excitement that one could make another person perpetually lustful just by controlling what they eat.

Though, by the still persisting default, Max was still connecting that to _her_ being a sub rather than doing this to Rachel. Perhaps because that way it was not nearly as awkward to imagine engaging with these kinks. Or just because she still couldn't quite get used to the idea of being a dom – _Rachel's_ dom – on some deep internal level, which obviously took some time to reshape. And until it did, her mind just autopiloted back to the pre-reveal mindset.

Max started to find the whole kink pondering a bit tiring now. Her eyes glanced over the remainder of that advertisement, noticing that one especially popular supplement that lifted the negative and painful effects of wearing gags – a mental note was made to get that, since Rachel's going to need it if she's going to wear a gag all the time.

Apparently they could have just about anything free of charge, as Max recalled from the contract.

Hm. Rachel obviously didn't see it that way, but honestly, some subs would kill for something like that. It's quite prestigious to be a student representative of the whole Academy – especially one like Blackwell – and to receive so much support from it and such an extensive all-including training. Surely it's got to open lots of doors in the future.

But- sigh. Future. Another tiring thing to think about, and honestly Max was too tired of thinking. She decided she needed to just sit down and relax, try to clear her mind and maybe sit on the phone or something. Rachel's taking forever anyway.

She spent the rest of the time waiting on one of the benches.

And after having that awkward moment with a very naked Rachel, she was followed by her into the curator's room.

The room was… peculiar. Somewhat of a mixture of two themes, between a BDSM room and a doctor's office, but without the intimidating vibe of either. On one hand, the shelves and cupboards along one of the walls had some pretty obvious bondage equipment just laying around – cuffs, gags, other restraints, plugs and whatnot. Clearly stuff that one could wear for extended periods of time, though neither of the girls really connected that gear to this fact. On the other hand, there was a sink too, there were some gloves and rolling carts. A couple of the cupboards hosted a variety of what looked like different crèmes and ointments and such, drugs. A medkit off to the side. A refrigerator for some reason. Along the opposite wall from the entrance, there was some metal machinery somewhat resembling something you'd see in a hospital.

And in the center of everything there was a metal table, just large enough for a person to lay on. It stood on a single wide leg in the center, the height of which seemed adjustable. There were some black latex pieces already neatly laid out on it – both Max and Rachel recognized it as that long-term wear material – Max from the advertisements, and Rachel from her previous exploration, from back when she still thought she'd be a dom.

The curator was standing beside them and tapped the edge of that table where there was a bit of space.

"Come sit here, Rachel."

Very friendly and unofficial, yet one glance was still shot at Max. There was a bit of that reluctance again, but Rachel did as she was told a moment later anyway, pulling herself up to sit on the table with her bare feet dangling in the air below it.

At least it wasn't cold.

The curator got behind Rachel to carefully gather her hair and tied it into a ponytail as Max just kind of stopped halfway instead of approaching right up to them, deciding that she's not needed or required to do anything and that it's best not to interfere. She just stood, grasping her elbow as usual a bit away from everything, watching yet still trying not to focus too much on Rachel's beautiful nudity that she was apparently fully entitled to now. If Rachel ever looked at her, Max tried to return an encouraging look, which definitely happened once or twice.

Once all of her hair was neatly out of the way and exposed even more beautiful skin, the curator realized she still had the feather earring on. A questioning glance was shot at Max, which was responded to with the same exact one, and a moment later a brief shake of her head, which the curator read as 'leave it on'. A tiny shrug was made – technically she wasn't required to remove piercings, so why not?

Max wasn't sure what exactly happened in that interaction or why she had a say in that but the earring stayed on so that probably doesn't matter.

The curator picked up one of the rubber sack looking things that she laid out in the table. Rachel only glanced over them as she approached and wasn't looking now on purpose, while Max saw exactly what was picked up in great detail.

The item in her hands was definitely not a full blown petsuit. No. It was… what looked like a collar connected to two rubber sacks, or wide short sleeves. The collar itself was black just like the rubber, and while it seemed to have a leather texture, the rubber that connected it to the sleeves was simply a part of it rather than sewed into it or attached somehow. Like they were a part of the same piece, despite looking like separate restraints at a glance.

The size of the collar wasn't large – it was only a little thick, and also had metal D-rings on 3 sides – one on the back, and one above each sleeve. In the front there was a slightly larger metal ring, signifying the obvious fact that it was a slave collar.

The curator stood in front of her.

"Bend your arms and try to grasp your shoulders with your hands."

She showed what Rachel needed to do on herself, folding her arms and bringing each hand to each appropriate shoulder ball. Obviously the palms wouldn't reach even if the fingers easily would, but the point was to make the effort.

Once Rachel did that, the curator pressed on her wrists a little to bring them a bit closer to her shoulders, and kind of adjusted her posture to be a little straighter so that her folded arms were neatly symmetrical.

"Try to snuggle them up a bit but don't tense up too much. Hold like this when it's on."

Rachel blinked at that, but also nodded. Having her arms folded and bound in this particular chicken-wing-like way was pretty much expected since she was a pet, but this wasn't exactly how she imagined the process.

The curator proceeded to work with the sacks now. Each one obviously had a hole through which the curator directed each of Rachel's elbows, enveloping her folded arms with these sacks. And it felt _really_ smooth. A bit unnaturally so, because it was very dry as if polished, and the rubber slid along Rachel's skin perfectly. It seemed to cover her entire arms as well as the top of her shoulders, but didn't quite reach the neckbones below, leaving them pretty exposed, same as her breasts and around. At the top it connected to the collar, which the curator wasted no time fastening once Rachel's arms were inside the sacks.

"Don't move now."

She walked off somewhere behind Rachel while the girl was left with a tiny confused frown. The collar was really loose for some reason, even though Rachel totally closed her eyes in the expectation for it to be tightened quite snugly. But no tightness came, and the sacks themselves were oversized and not tight at all – nothing was restraining about this.

Max returned Rachel's confused frown with a little shrug and a curious look of her own towards the curator. She knew just about as much as Rachel did in regards to what kind of restraint this was. It certainly didn't look like a full blown petsuit – the remaining two sacks on the table were presumably for legs, and weren't made for covering the entire body. It seemed like they would cover only what was necessary to cover to restrain Rachel, and the rest of her body would just remain naked and very exposed.

But how are these loose sacks going to restrain her? The curator came back with an answer shortly, and the answer was this weird device that… somewhat resembled a half-sized defibrillator and even had a spiral wire attaching it to one of those large machines in the back.

"Lean your head forward a little…"

Rachel did, exposing the back of her neck. The curator let her ponytail hang down her front, then placed the smooth metal surface of that device against the rubber on the back of her neck, right below the collar, making sure it didn't touch any skin.

"Okay, it's going to get a bit hot now, but don't panic. Just don't move until I say it's done."

"Okay…" came out cautiously. Rachel kind of just looked at the floor rather than Max or anyone else, bracing for… whatever she was supposed to not panic about.

With a push of a button the large machine made a booting up sound, then Rachel felt the device press against the back of her neck with a bit more force before-

She gasped.

There was a shock – literally, it was electricity, but it wasn't painful and was barely even noticeable, because the reason for the gasp was something totally different. Suddenly, all of that rubber on her body shrunk and tightened very quickly. That spread a lot of goosebumps throughout Rachel's skin – naked and otherwise. The excess air from the space inside the sacks was forcefully expelled somewhere below the back of her neck, and her arms and hands ended up snuggled up really really tightly to her shoulders. The collar tightened quite a bit as well, so much so that it was hard not to feel worried of it tightening _too much_.

The instinct was to reach for that collar, but Rachel quickly remembered not to move – not that she felt like she actually could now.

"You should feel the heat now. Don't worry, it's just to make you sweat, so you can feel more comfortable sooner."

Indeed, everything warmed up pretty quickly and Rachel could feel every tiniest bit of that heat. The rubber was basically skin-tight now, like a second skin, which was an alarming sensation.

… How do they take this off again?

She tried to block out any fearful thoughts, or calm the existing ones with recollection. It's some new expensive thing that of course Blackwell had – she just didn't know that this was it until this moment. The upgraded material is tightened with an electric micropattern, and the only way to loosen it is to apply another current, the exact needed strength of which is derived from the values of the original one.

Vaguely remembering the contract, Blackwell reserved the exclusive possession of the means of restraint somewhere in there. Meaning two things – they are the only ones who would have the values, and that the only known safe way to unrestrain her now is with the help of that machine. And that would only happen after she passes the RTC, which was yet another guarantee of her compliance.

… Which is what Rachel already knew and signed up for. It was expected. It's no surprise.

No unknowns to be afraid of there.

"Okay."

The device was put aside and the curator stood in front of Rachel again.

"Now try to unfold your arms. Really try, put as much strength into it as you can."

Rachel looked up at her somewhat distantly, but did as she was told nonetheless. And the results were – _damn_. She tried to simply unfold her arms like usual, with no strength, but that was _nowhere near_ a realistic possibility. She then tried to force her arms straight, and that didn't work either – in fact, her forearms couldn't move from their fixed positions at all. The rubber had no give whatsoever in that regard. She tried once, twice, thrice, actually groaning a bit in the process…

But had to admit that she couldn't do it with a shake of her head.

"I can't…"

The curator nodded.

"Alright. Good."

Her tone was lightly neutral, as if she was just doing her job – which she was, to be fair.

She walked over behind her now, which left Rachel still moving a little bit in less overtly forceful ways, trying to test the limits of her restraints and what small movements they allowed. There barely were any, really. She could move her fingers, clench a fist, but not spread them apart. Her wrist could move side to side a little bit. That's it. She could only meaningfully move the entire folded arm at once.

And that collar was really tight – she felt it on her neck actively with every breath, as there was always a bit of noticeable resistance.

Her eyes went up to Max with some understandable concern, and Max was just standing there… blushing. Not super outwardly so, like when she first saw Rachel naked, but a small blush was there, and her eyes examined Rachel's restraints with noticeable curiosity.

She didn't seem worried for Rachel's safety—

Though before any of that was addressed in any manner, the curator continued.

"Let's do your legs now, Rachel. Lie down."

The remaining sacks were moved aside a bit, and she helped Rachel down on her back to lay on the table. Still not cold, at least.

"Now bend your knees, the same way as your arms – yep."

Rachel did that kinda slowly, but without much hesitation before doing it, and the curator pressed her ankles to her thighs with a little extra force, aligning her limbs according to her needs and spreading her legs apart just a little bit.

It was exposing, but that wasn't the point.

She took to working on her legs now, lifting them up a bit in their folded pose and stuffing them into the rubber restraints. Interestingly, those two were separate – one for each leg – and went up all the way to her waistline, again not covering any more skin that had to be covered. Her crotch, her buttcheeks, her lower stomach – all of that remained completely naked. Interestingly, her feet did too. On the bottom, the sacks each had an ankle-sized hole with that collar thing with the D-rings on them, and the curator pulled each foot through them, leaving her feet outside the rubber prison and loosely fastening the collar-cuffs on her ankles.

Rachel connected that mostly to fetishistic needs rather than some sort of unobvious way for her to walk.

But either way, when everything was set, the curator used the electric device to shrink and tighten the rubber restraints on her legs, snuggling her shins to her thighs and restricting the remainder of her freedom. Not much was unexpected there anymore - the goosebumps that followed, the heat, the alarmingly strong tightness of the ankle cuffs…

"Try to straighten your legs now."

As before, Rachel's attempts were completely fruitless – she tried with all of her strength, but nothing came of it.

Another head shake to confirm.

"No."

"Alright. One final piece then you're all set."

Rachel followed the curator with her eyes to the cupboard with the bondage gear. She picked out some loose straps that she quickly recognized as a very basic head harness – mostly thanks to the ballgag the curator also brought with her, that was detached from that harness. And very basic meant quite literally very basic – just some thin black leather straps that wrap around the sides of the head vertically so that one may connect things to them in the front. On the back there was a fastening strap below where Rachel's ponytail would be, probably to make sure that the thing stays on and keeps whatever is attached in the front snug, but when the curator took to putting it on, she actually started by attaching it to two opposite D-rings of Rachel's too-tight collar first.

Rachel didn't really move or say anything, just letting her do her job. Every part of her body that she used to have meaningful control over was getting altered and restricted in some way. Her mouth was the last thing – it made logical sense that it would be, and obviously the contract stated so, but actually experiencing it was quite different than imagining it before. It was… overwhelming, because every body part had something new to deal with, constantly, actively, with every little natural shift. A very restricting sensation, a reminder brought up by every small movement - that larger ones are no longer allowed.

Eventually her head was lifted a little so the back of it could be accessed as well, and straps were fastened there. Again though, it was more loose than expected, probably because the buckle below her chin was left untouched and those straps were disconnected.

The curator suddenly beckoned Max over.

"Come, let me show you how to use this."

Max's eyes widened a little there, because frankly, the blush on her face made it obvious what kind of place her thoughts kept visiting from watching all of this in her quietness. Even if she still mostly tried not to focus on what obviously brewed as excitement inside her, and instead wondered why there was… so little sympathy? There was a bit when Rachel had that hint of realization of just how helpless she was when the curator asked her to test the restraints. But for the most part it was like Max didn't really see this process as an inherently bad thing.

… She didn't, actually. It's what they were instructed, and in Max's head, the belief in the rightness of that writing now kept seriously shifting towards Rachel needing to try it all out on herself and live it for a bit – surely she'll start enjoying it, eventually. Because it _is_ the path to her happiness - much like to Max's. Max certainly felt like she could see her own path in there, now that she was seeing how she was responding to all of this kink.

Even if her partner was _Rachel_ of all people, and a _sub_ Rachel at that, also meaning that Max was a _dom_ and not a sub like she always thought. There's no way that will stop feeling surreal in any near future.

Thanks to all of this thinking, Max didn't expect to be involved in the restraining process at all, so the beckon took her off guard.

And Rachel glanced at her as well, to which Max responded with an awkward "Uhm." and darted her eyes a little.

…But only for a brief moment, because her feet took her to the table anyway. To stand over Rachel, who was just laying there, naked and totally helpless.

And hers. Gulp.

Of course their gazes met because the curator was there to explain face related things. Rachel didn't interfere with any words though, looking actually… kind of neutral. Maybe she was in some sort of thoughtless events-absorption mode. To be fair, it _would_ be quite exhausting if she put herself through immediate rationalizing and analysis of everything that was done to her, especially if she didn't want any of it as she said she didn't.

"These straps are just a foundation for whatever you want to use. You can have different combinations of restraints or everything at once without having to remove it."

The curator continued, pointing towards the upper side of the vertical straps – they ran up the sides of Rachel's face, conveniently out of the way, and there were little D-rings right over her temples.

"This is where you attach a blindfold, or any separate deafening device if it needs an extra fixing point."

Her finger then pointed at the top of Rachel's head, where those straps met. Or rather, it was a single strap, but there was an O-ring there.

"This one's for a nose hook or anything you want to chain to her head for whatever reason. Like if you need to take the weight of her head off of her neck, for example. Some animal ears use this ring as an attachment point as well; others you can just attach to the strap itself, or just have her wear them separately."

The curator was being friendly, yet also very matter-of-factly and explainy, as if she was more of a kind teacher than a guide. As a result, Mas sort of automatically dipped into student mode, nodding a bit and letting out a little acknowledging "Mhm.", somewhat ignoring the fact that they were directly dealing with Rachel's face and talking about ways to restrain it.

She also didn't even consider animal ears. None of the instructions said what kind of pet Rachel is supposed to be. Other than a _human_ pet.

Next, the curator attracted their attention to the two opposite D-rings to the sides of Rachel's mouth, on the very short horizontal straps coming out of the vertical ones.

"And these are for the gags. You don't need to wrap a strap around her head to gag her. Just place whatever gag you want in her mouth—

She brought up that ballgag to Rachel's lips, suddenly addressing her.

 _"Open._ "

Rachel didn't expect a command, but opened her mouth without much thought about it. It wasn't a strict and bossy sounding one, but it _was_ a command.

The gag was placed inside – a little pushed in, since Rachel wasn't too eager to open her mouth too widely. It was a simple medium sized white plastic ball with holes. If Rachel was still immediately analyzing everything, she would have recalled what those are usually for – the holes are both to let the air in, and drool out. She would have worried about lots of things that were mentioned, really. Like that nose hook or the blindfold. But at this point, she just wanted to get through the process and go home to rest.

… to Max's home. Whatever, any home will do to deal with everything later.

So obviously, like any gag, this one had two attachment points on opposite sides, and the curator aligned them with the ones on the harness, so it was simply a matter of buckling one into the other. But since the horizontal straps were really short, it ended up well inside Rachel's mouth, and quite snugly at that – she was totally unable to push it out with her tongue, and she definitely tried in a little while.

"… and attach it like this." the curator finished that off.

Then, she tipped Rachel's chin up a bit, exposing some of her neck.

"Then fasten the buckle below her chin."

That's where the vertical straps met on the bottom, and there was a buckle there. Once the curator fastened that, the whole harness tightened quite noticeably, and the gag sat inside Rachel's mouth even more snugly, slotted perfectly into her cavity. That also made it harder for her to move the jaw.

"And you can have her wear this harness for any length of time since nothing about it can make her physically uncomfortable. If you need to remove it-"

She pointed towards the fastened straps below Rachel's ponytail.

"Undo that then just detach it from her collar. Very quick and simple. Got it?"

Max suddenly found both sets of eyes on her. And she couldn't read Rachel's at all – she was just looking at her without any expression, gagged. While Max was still kinda flustered.

Did Rachel really not feel any excitement over this at all? Yeah, it's obviously quite a lifechanger and obviously an unsolicited one, but how could _bondage_ not be exciting? _Max_ certainly would be excited if she was in her place.

Maybe it really was some kind of thoughtless defensive mode. Is this how Rachel coped with overwhelming situations? She didn't look distressed or anything. Maybe she was hiding it – Max knew that Rachel of all people could. Or maybe she was too tired to feel distressed. Emotionally. It was a long day with many tough decisions and many things to accept were still ahead…

So maybe she just wanted to get this over with? Or… maybe she expected Max to do something about this and 'save' her somehow? Oh, fuck. But there was no pleading in her eyes – not even once this whole evening.

… But maybe there was in her mind?

-Shit. Um.

"Um. Yeah. Thanks."

Max nodded one second too late. She really didn't want to believe that was the case. If there was no visible distress then things are more likely to be okay than not, right?

Right. That made sense.

The curator though actually huffed at her response a little with a small smile, as if she read Max's slowness as just her being overwhelmed, which to her was always endearing in doms that suddenly found their subs exactly where they wanted them to be. She kept any comments to herself though.

"Alright. Well, did you bring your leash?"

The question was asked on a slightly higher note, implying it's something to be happy about. It should be, normally, because people do this perfectly willingly.

… Other people.

Max kind of shook her head a little bit, to which the curator responded with a little surprised "Hm.", as if that was unusual, which it probably was.

To be fair, it's not like she knew the real circumstances of the situation. The whole point was for Rachel's escape not to be public knowledge. As far as she knew, Rachel was to become the school's model student, which was quite unique and fortunate, and it's probably no wonder that the girls are a little dreamy.

"Then let me get you one."

She made a quick trip to that bondage gear cupboard, and all eyes in the room followed her there, though this time she actually looked inside to find the item. A black leather leash, matching the color of that rubber. In a moment it was effortlessly attached to the larger front ring on Rachel's still-very-tight collar.

"That's better. Now you're all set."

The other end was presented proudly to Max, and she took it with a bit of reluctance.

"Now I need a few minutes to do some paperwork, but don't leave just yet. Actually, here."

The curator leaned down under the metal table and pushed some button on its single leg, causing it to start a very slow pneumatic-sounding descent to the floor.

"Have a walk and try out the restraints. I'll be back in a minute with some things for you to sign."

She disappeared behind the door within a moment, leaving the two girls alone.

There was a moment of silence as the table slowly descended all the way to the floor, and once again neither of them knew how to handle the way they were looking at each other.

Rachel was kind of… distant, because most of her focus was on her senses. She _felt_ the restraints on every part of her body very actively, as if they kept slowly tightening on their own even without that electric device, or simply whenever Rachel stopped any movement they tried to bring her limbs back to 'proper'. That obviously wasn't the case, but the sensation was there, and it was pretty overwhelming because of just the sheer amount of tight restriction that was just imposed, that brought a total end to her physical freedom.

And also, the _pet_ leash extended from her _pet_ collar to _Max's_ hand that kept a firm hold. She watched it and Max as her point of view slowly became lower and lower and lower as that table descended to the floor, as if to where she was _supposed_ to be.

The symbolism was more than unsubtle.

Rachel felt it vividly.

Max's eyes in the meantime, for once in a while, drifted away from the intriguing restraints, but only to find themselves examining the features Rachel's beautifully exposed naked body. Closely, now that she was close.

This was it, this was the 'suit'. Is this how naked she's always going to be from now on?

God _damn_ she's beautiful…

Aaaaand que the blush. Fuck.

That obviously prompted Max to tense up a bit now that she was self-aware. An interesting result of that was that she clutched the end of the leash a little too tightly, as if possessively. Not tugging on it, but – the symbolism was there for Max too. She literally had a Rachel on her leash now – _her_ leash.

Rachel wasn't oblivious to it of course, but acknowledging and rationalizing Max's signs of enjoyment was not something she was currently concerned with. And even if she was – _of course_ Max would enjoy it. _Her_ writing didn't fuck her over.

But self-awareness aside, Max at least had her priorities straight, even if they were a little slow given the circumstances.

"Um. Was it painful?"

Rachel didn't expect anything particular from Max, still seeming pretty distant, so her question received a clear and simple answer - a small shake of her head.

"Nuh."

Still, Max felt the need to rid herself of whatever awkwardness that she felt, imagined or otherwise. The curator told them to try things out. Probably a good idea.

"…"

There _was_ an awkward pause, but yeah.

"… Do you wanna…?"

Rachel gave her a glance, and then a nod a moment later, coming to the same conclusion.

"Yeah."

So she adjusted herself slightly, then tried to pull her upper body up with just the muscles of her stomach.

That didn't work. And god damn did it feel weird to not be able to straighten her arms and add some counterweight. She tried again, groaning a bit and lifting her upper body, but only about a half of the way until her weak strength failed her.

That's when she suddenly felt some warmth on her skin – at her back, supporting her.

Just towering over a very helpless struggling Rachel was not something Max realized was arousing yet, because the immediate obvious instinct was the opposite - she automatically crouched down and gently placed her palm on Rachel's back, giving her the support and the push she needed.

Bit of a moment, but Rachel didn't think too much of it, because again – no expectations. And while it was simply appreciated, it wasn't particularly helpful, even if it did achieve it's purpose. Sitting up like this wasn't sustainable, and Rachel's body naturally kept seeking support behind her, since it's not like she could straighten her legs anymore and use _them_ as a counterweight, meaning she was doomed to fall back down without Max's support.

There was probably a way, but Rachel's current attempts were uncomfortable and kind of tiring. She could maybe figure that out later. Right now the obvious solution laid in sliding her folded legs off to the side – onto the floor, off the table, so that she may end up sitting on her knees.

It was awkward, but Max provided all the support she needed, thankfully, pulling her up as she stood up herself to take a step back and give her space.

Now Rachel found herself kneeling on the floor in front of her dom.

Naked.

In bondage.

On a leash.

Max was aware too.

It was just like in that poster.

She looked up – Max certainly seemed tall from down here. The initial instinct, interestingly, was to rise on her knees, which later would logically lead to planting a foot on the floor and pushing herself up to stand, if she could rise from her knees in the first place. That was really weird at first. That she couldn't unfold her legs to push her body up higher. Her head was barely even on Max's crotch level thanks to that, and there was absolutely no way she could be any higher.

Max gave her a moment, but she was pretty curious to see what Rachel could do too.

"Try to take a few steps."

Obviously not a command, but it sort of had an undertone of Max needing to see it more than just wanting to, because, well, obviously she needed to, too.

And Rachel wanted to try it herself. The obvious instinctive idea was to apply the usual walking mechanism to this, and take steps with each folded leg, remaining on her knees, sort of shuffling on them like that. She took a few of those steps, and found that they were really short and small, which was very ineffective movement, and her folded arms moved along quite a bit too, uselessly, providing that strong sensation of restriction again, since they were obviously going to stay folded no matter what she did.

"No, um. Wait."

What Rachel tried was not what Max had in mind. She stopped when Max told her, looking up.

"You've gotta- um. You've seen pets crawl, right?"

There was a little nod before she faced forward again. Rachel knew what to do, and knew what Max meant before by telling her to take steps, even. She just happened to want to try this particular kind of walking before the more… appropriate one.

"Lean forward and place your elbows on the floor."

Rachel already started doing that before Max finished the sentence. And it was… an even lower perspective, much closer to the floor. Things seemed kinda different from downt here.

"Yeah, now put your weight on them and do the same with your knees."

As she did, there were a couple of interesting discoveries. That weight on her elbows, and then knees too? It didn't feel like she was standing directly on the hard floor. Instead, it felt a little soft, like there was some padding at her knees and elbows, inside the rubber prisons, or maybe that's just how this material reacted to such pressure. On the outside, it seemed to cling to the floor pretty well too. She knew it was dry and smooth from stepping on it with her bare feet before, yet this material made her feel pretty confident that her limbs won't slide under her when she puts as much weight on them as she wants to.

That was nice – it should make walking painless and easier.

… Walking?

 _Crawling_.

Rachel was on all fours now. Like a real pet.

Degraded to nothing more than.

Sigh.

Maybe she would enjoy some of the most obviously enjoyable aspects of this, if it wasn't imposed on her in such a way. If the bondage was just temporary – sure, maybe. Rachel definitely had her own kinks. Even the roleplay aspect of this could have been enticing, if it was just roleplay – _role_ , not something that she just _is_ now.

Max took a couple of steps aside to give her space, and Rachel took some of her first steps. Of course, the more she moved, the more she felt the tightness of the rubber restricting everything. But to her surprise, she found those steps… surprisingly easy. Easy, intuitive and effective. She could cover so much more distance than by shuffling on her knees like she just did, it actually felt a little jarring. Though the drawback was that she was inches from the floor. Basically shins or ankles level of other people – Max's knees were definitely higher than the whole Rachel-on-all-fours was. And looking up was a bit hard – she figured facing people in general would be a bit of a struggle in this position, and probably impossible if she was right next to them without kneeling.

Still, the mechanics of the movement were quite different from the usual walking, and actually somewhat interesting since they involved the whole body in the action rather than just legs, so Rachel felt like exploring the crawling some more. A few steps were made, fairly slow and cautious ones, then a turn, and she tried to take a series of consistent steps in a straight line closer to a walking pace, which obviously resulted in a larger distance of the attempt.

She did that until her still-too-tight collar suddenly provided a good bit of meaningful resistance.

Actually, no.

That actually came from the leash, didn't it? Did Max just…?

… Max did. Kind of.

The first few steps seemed just about as she expected, but then her mind caught up with what she was actually seeing.

 _Yes_ , naked Rachel once again, but a naked Rachel _in restraints, on all fours, on her leash, crawling like a pet-_

Just, fuck, here we go again.

The position and the restraints left all of the most visually appealing parts of Rachel's body on a fully visible display. All of them. And the way her body moved, while obviously a bit awkward from inexperience, was just so amazingly cute and enticing to Max that she just couldn't look away.

Her back was long and elegant. Her ass was fit and cute, and each step exposed it consistently. Her feet even, poked outside the leg binders and presented her beautiful soles for anyone's eyes. The nipples were presented too, though those required a bit of peeking. They had this beautiful ever so slight bounce with each step, as if hypnotic, despite not being sacky whatsoever.

Though Max didn't get a long time to blush and stare.

She didn't notice how the leash ran out of distance until Rachel ended up tugging Max's hand a little.

… To which Max, on her flustered autopilot, responded with a momentary tug back, which is what Rachel ended up noticing.

So… yeah. She did.

It wasn't fully intentional, but Rachel read it as Max already trying to control her with the leash, like the actual pet that she now was. The sentiment didn't feel too nice.

But, still, it definitely fulfilled its purpose. Rachel turned to Max and crawled back to her, kneeling in front of her again and looking up with a little questioning look.

For once there was no awkward pause.

"How was it?"

How was it? Bit of a too open-ended question for someone who's gagged. But Rachel supposed that if someone like Kelly can deal with it on a daily basis, then so could she, probably.

"Uh…"

If she can handle figuring out what to say to that question. The truth seemed… surprisingly positive for someone who wants none of this in her life. But maybe that just doesn't matter at this point anyway.

"Ih's easieh -han I –haught." (It's easier than I thought.)

Max seemed to understand the meaning despite the muffled words, because it actually lightened her face quite a bit, even prompting a tiny little smile.

The curator returned with convenient timing. She actually seemed a little more pleased now that she walked onto them two not being all awkward and away from each other.

She handed Max a manifest with some papers and a pen.

"Sign under 'safety witness' on each of them."

She pointed at the exact writing then kinda glanced over Rachel and Max.

"Everything's good, right?"

"Think so." Max simply nodded.

Rachel had something to say though.

"My collah is hoo –hight." (My collar is too tight.)

Max glanced down at her with a little concern, but that was immediately addressed by the curator.

"Hm."

The curator curiously crouched down in front of her and carefully tugged it with a finger, testing out the tightness.

"… No, seems as tight as it should be."

What? Rachel returned a little frown at that, though mostly expressing confusion than anything else. She could quite clearly feel it squeezing her neck strongly enough to be worrisome. Or not necessarily worrisome – just a bit uncomfortable, in a way that it was attention-attracting.

The curator noticed the frown.

"All proper slave and pet collars are tight like that. It's meant to remind you of your place with every breath. The tightness makes sure you always know you're wearing the collar, and obviously you know what it means."

While Rachel wasn't particularly happy about that, the curator's explanation sent a little warm tingle throughout Max. Because that was pretty erotic, and at this point, after everything, trying to block out these sensations was getting too annoyingly tiring.

"All done?" The curator stood up and asked Max.

She gave her a nod in response.

"Yeah."

A very quick gloss over the files followed.

"Alright. You two can go."

There was a smile now.

"Have fun."

Unreturned though, since Max still wasn't sure how much positivity she was supposed to show on the outside, considering Rachel's unwillingness.

"Thanks."

Though luckily they were finally done, so that should not be as much of a problem anymore.

Her eyes went down to Rachel, and to the leash – Rachel actually noticed how Max hasn't let go of it even once ever since it was given to her - and then back to Rachel. She made a little wave with it.

"Let's go?"

There was a little nod.


	7. Expectations

The drool was annoying.

That's the only thing Stella hated about ring gags, especially if her wrists were restrained behind her back and she was unable to wipe it off.

The longer she stood in the cage, the more parts of her body yearned for wiping – her chest, her breasts, her stomach, the waistband of her chastity belt...

Despite not being much, it was making her feel pretty filthy, and maybe just a little ticklish against bare skin if it ran past something sensitive.

But she deserved it, fairly. The curator asked them a question, and not answering it had a consequence. Still a better one than ratting out her friends though, because that could easily backfire, especially if she ever finds herself in a cage like this again, where absolutely anyone can painfully torture her as much as they want to.

And she knew she will return to it eventually. Her life as a sub-in-training was a constant flow of crazily arousing kink. Forbidding her from touching herself at all is honestly complete bullshit.

But… sigh. Maybe it wasn't worth the boredom, if she had to stand in this cage for so long with absolutely nothing to do and no one around to even press that damn remote button and give her at least _something_.

No, someone was around. That door that Rachel and the shy sub-looking girl had disappeared behind a while ago has opened up.

Stella curiously perked up on her feet, previously only lazily leaning on the walls of the cage with her knees bent slightly.

Somebody crawled out of that door, in nicely revealing pet restraints. A quite beautiful looking girl actually, with –wait. Blond hair, blue feather?

Rachel?

That short haired brunette Stella saw her with earlier followed her out in a moment, holding Rachel on a leash, and then proceeded to direct her down the hall, towards the exit.

That was honestly the least dom-looking dom she ever saw.

Stella pressed her chest against the bars of the cage, trying to get a better peek – she could only see so much from her alcove. Rachel crawled along a little behind the brunette, even though she seemed to be giving her a generously slow pace and didn't tug her leash at all, and even nicely opened the double doors at the end of the hall until she slowly crawled through and disappeared behind them – both of them did.

… okay.

Rachel Amber is a sub and a pet, and a pretty hardcore one at that. Wow.

If she's here and just got outfitted, she's going to attend sub training here.

Now Stella really wished she wasn't gagged and caged.

Sigh.

It was strange how Rachel's mind wrapped around the crawling process, now that she was out there with lots of distance to cover and plenty of space to crawl. The mechanics, from just a physical point of view, were somehow registered as appealing, which was surprising. Rachel had to use her folded arms and her folded legs – all four limbs were now required to move, and the movement was very active. She had to balance her weight on 4 points now instead of two, and obviously her knees and elbows weren't as wide of a foundation as her two feet, so the shifting of weight was felt in a freshly vivid new manner.

But at the same time, Rachel's limbs were completely restrained, so she naturally kept trying to straighten them sometimes just out of muscle memory to maybe somehow balance herself by placing a palm on the floor and whatnot. Obviously none of that was possible anymore, so these were consistent reminders.

Interestingly, her mind started approaching all that overwhelming tightness as… more of a challenge to overcome rather than the inescapable crushing reality of her new role. Which was quite motivating on a very basic sensory level. A little physically pleasing, even, especially after a long straight crawl down the hall, and then the next one, as she sort of started working out a more automatic pattern.

She confirmed that her pace was enough to follow the walking feet in front of her, and it was kind of nice that that's all she had to do – follow. It gave her enough space to focus on how she handled the task physically, which was important at this stage.

It was something Rachel knew she had – that kind of approach to things. Reforming them in her mind to be challenges to overcome rather than just problems to live with. It's how she handled what the life had thrown at her so far, be it studies or interests, ambitions or dreams.

It's something her dad had as well, and she admired him for it.

But there was more than just coping with the physical side of things. Once they reached the exit, Rachel couldn't put off her obvious worry anymore – that she has to crawl out there, like this. Onto the very familiar campus grounds. To where she normally hangs out and has fun, or used to. Where her friends used to meet her, see her, talk to her – clothed her, standing her, talking her, not-leashed her.

None of that will be the same anymore.

But at least it was evening. The obvious benefit of that was that they can avoid any contacts that they didn't want, because there barely was anyone out at such hour in the middle of the week. Max even stated that she wanted to meet people just about as much as Rachel did right now, which was nicely understanding of her. The pace of their walk increased a bit to make sure that that didn't happen.

There was a bit of a drawback of crawling outside practically naked too. It was still a warm autumn, but the natural chill of the evening air quickly got to Rachel's sensitive places, and she felt it especially sharply.

… It was a very exposing feeling, especially considering that Rachel couldn't cover anything up anymore. Though that probably made her nipples even more visually appealing. Or would have, if it wasn't dark and they weren't facing the floor, inches from it.

Same as the rest of Rachel, really.

And that- there was a bit of a realization in this new floor-low perspective. The pet's point of view really made the dorm grounds look larger and things more distant, bigger, maybe even harder to get to, or _onto_ , like random benches and whatnot. Rachel's focus was more on the floor immediately next to her now, or the feet that kept walking that she followed.

And everything else was sort of not where she could willingly go anymore, and even if she did, she wouldn't be able to interact with it the same way.

Weird.

As she continued crawling to the dorms, there was another interesting thing she started noticing that was well past the bits of physical satisfaction she felt earlier from just moving around a lot. All of this was quite a bit of exertion, yet she wasn't feeling tired. In fact, her muscles kind of felt somewhat invigorated, which was pretty unnatural since one would expect to start feeling soreness at this point.

That must have been the effects of her long-term restraints. Or, the solution that they turned her sweat into. It kind of felt like cheating already – no wonder this thing was banned in most sports.

… Though not the kinky ones.

Ugh.

Would Rachel have to participate in those, too?

That's definitely too much to deal with in one day. Rachel shook her head out of these thoughts. Though shaking her head resulted in a little bit of awkwardness, mostly because of her gag. Or its holes. Now that she was wearing it for a while, the drool was starting to seep through.

Which is one hell of a way to make someone feel like an animal.

Eventually the two of them reached the dorms, and Max was just as generous on Rachel with the stairs as she was with the pace. She wasn't helping though – they both knew Rachel had to learn to climb the stairs on her own.

Thankfully, that was acceptable, since Rachel started automatically treating this as an obstacle to get through and didn't even think of asking for Max's help, same as with the very restricted movement she had to get used to.

Inside the girls' dorm hallway Max quickened their pace by a good bit - it was the first time she meaningfully _pulled_ Rachel by the leash since the restraining room, which a bit begrudgingly prompted her to try to keep up better and crawl faster. Another thing that easily makes one feel more like a pet. It didn't help much with dealing with the fact that being here like this felt weird and vulnerable.

Just yesterday Rachel was casually sitting in one of the rooms she was now crawling past – Juliet's – and getting a nice interview, with her sub on the floor pleasantly worshipping Rachel's feet.

To think that back then she thought of herself as either someone without a reveal or a future dom, and wanted to train her own sub to be as good as Kelly. That she had her own mundane plans for after the interview. To finish her homework after she gets back, to visit Two Whales, to hang out with Chloe, and drag her ass out to skate for a change… but probably end up smoking weed in her room anyway.

God the times have changed fast.

Now she was the one on the floor, and probably would have to worship people's feet herself. Like Kelly.

Or maybe even more.

Ugh.

Thank god no one saw her crawling through the hallway right now. Rachel couldn't bear dealing with anyone if they approached them.

So there was a small synchronized sigh of relief when Max stopped pulling the leash as the door to her room closed behind them. Rachel took a few steps inside and pulled herself back up onto her knees.

… The sight was not encouraging.

Max did not expect to see what she saw either.

In the far back side, in the corner beside Lisa, there was a cage. A metal pet cage – pretty wide and large, but its height seemed to be at around the height of the base of Rachel's neck, meaning she wouldn't be able to kneel like she was kneeling now inside it. Because of course that's where her mind went instantly – that this cage is for her. Max didn't own any other pets. And it already had some more-or-less human-sized bedding inside, covering about one half of its floor. The other half was mostly empty and hosted two bowls.

"… Oh. Um."

"I was hoping they wouldn't bring it today."

Rachel glanced up at her with a bit of worry, but Max sort of avoided catching that glance as if on purpose. She dropped the leash to the ground and placed her messenger bag on the couch on the way to the cage, leaving her sneakers behind as well.

There was a letter at the top of the cage – Rachel noticed too now as Max picked it up and pulled out a note and some kind of plastic card.

 _This is your carte blanche for any training supplies or facilities you may need._

 _Use it well._

 _I went ahead and had the staff bring you several sets of basic tools as well. I hope you will find them useful at such an important early stage of your journey._

 _I have full confidence in yours and Ms. Amber's success. Blackwell will always be there to support you at every step of the way._

 _Best regards, Ray Wells._

Just about something you'd expect from the principal.

Hm. Sets of tools?

Oh.

There were several black boxes neatly lined out on Max's desk. Roughly the size of shoe boxes, a couple a bit smaller and a couple a bit larger, but all of them with the same kind of lids as the typical carton ones.

Max briefly lifted each one to get a peek inside. If Rachel could see her face from behind, it would have obviously been a little flustered.

There was a sizeable set of different kinds of gags with a bottle of that gag wear supplement.

There was a set of vibrators and dildos of different shapes, wired and remote. Buttplugs too.

There was a set of disciplinary tools – extendable crop and cane, a folded paddle with some holes, a violent wand, a flogger whip and several other painful things.

There was a set of… mixed purpose items. A length of rope. A blindfold. A few different kinds of nipple clamps. A nose hook. Toe cuffs. Some kind of box with copper wires coming out of it and little pincers at the end of them. Some other smaller rubber sack that… was clearly a hood, with two small holes for nostrils and zippers for eyes and mouth.

… It was a lot.

Max quickly decided she didn't want Rachel to see any of these. She guessed that in her state – which Max didn't even know exactly what it was – it probably would be easy to freak her out, or at least risk to. It's not like Max planned to use any of these anytime soon. The plan was to take this slow and give Rachel space.

Though… some stuff had to happen practically immediately, and it still wasn't something Max knew how to approach.

Fortunately, Rachel presented an opportunity herself after watching Max stack these boxes and shove them away from sight in the little space to the right of her desk.

"Makh." (Max.)

That attracted her attention.

"Kah we tahk?" (Can we talk?)

"Yeah."

That came out without any pause and pretty sober – the question was serious, and Max matched that seriousness with understanding and immediate attention. It's how she promised to handle everything and had no intention of making Rachel doubt that promise.

She kinda weakly motioned for Rachel to approach closer, since the girl hadn't moved since she crawled inside and kneeled not far from the door. Max herself sat on her bed, as close to her as she can get.

Interestingly, Rachel's instinctive response to that motion was to try to stand, and she did try pushing her body off of the floor with her legs, but obviously they couldn't unfold anymore. These little constant reminders of her now permanent position were starting to get a little annoying – she had to cover a little bit of distance and there wasn't an obviously simple way to do it, like just taking a step.

Getting on all fours to crawl for a few feet made little sense either. She just inched over on her knees instead, as awkwardly as one would expect, again noticing the jarring difference of efficiency between the two types of movement.

Still, she ended up kneeling in front of Max, facing her, looking up at bit at her hunched over dom – Max leaned down a good bit and had her hands meet between her knees.

There was a bit of a pause – Max looked at her with a mix of question and a bit of concern, and Rachel just looked back expectantly.

"… Unhag me?" (Ungag me?)

That prompted a small flash of surprise in Max's eyes, as if she wasn't even thinking that. But it made sense probably that Rachel would ask this, since Wells did mention that she won't get to read the rules he insisted on for Max to make Rachel follow.

It was the main topic that Max wanted to bring up here, because they had a few strict things that Rachel needed to start doing now. With how much there was, she actually didn't even need to make any of her own rules. But at least they had a week to get into the routine, so Max planned not to crush her with the weight of everything and slowly introduce things instead. Bit by bit.

"Oh. Um…"

She pursed her lips slightly, hesitating as if sorry, and then just shook her head a little bit.

"I'm sorry, Rachel. I can't."

That earned a bit of a confused frown.

"Whah?" (What?)

Her voice was more surprised than anything.

"Why?"

"It's a rule. Um."

It was clear that Max had little confidence in this, and was somewhat uncomfortable with just flat out refusing Rachel like that after telling her to trust her and that she'll take things slow and easy. Because this must have felt like the opposite now.

But Max didn't really see another way to address things, so.

"You're gonna have to follow a few now. Wells gave me a… whole little -book thing, but don't worry. I won't enforce everything at once. We'll just have to start with a few basic ones like this... so…"

"Um. That's why I can't ungag you."

That somewhat lessened Rachel's confusion, though some of it was still left. She quickly glanced to the right, then quickly glanced to the left, and Max actually mirrored the action herself.

She then turned to face her, shrugging a little.

"Buh we'h alone. Thehe'hs no one elhs hehh, how wout they nou?" (But we're alone. There's no one else here, how would they know?)

Max squinted a tiny bit during that, since it was a little hard to understand – Rachel wasn't particularly experienced yet. She'd probably get more pointes of how to be more comprehensible, but that gag won't go away. Her contract said so, her rules said so – there were probably lots of practical training reasons why this particular thing had to happen if Max dug into it, but there wasn't really a large desire, since it's not like Max cared much about that training stuff right now.

She just cared about getting Rachel through it as comfortably and safely as she could, and hopefully getting her comfortable with pet life in the process. And that didn't help the conflict she was making her feel – Max was a bit guilty for such refusal, and it's not like Rachel didn't have a point – clearly no one would know if she just didn't enforce those rules in private.

Her eyes went off towards the cage in hesitation. She imagined Rachel there, and… obviously she didn't dislike the idea, even if it made her feel a little guilty. Her eyes returned to Rachel, who… was just kneeling on the floor, restrained in such an exciting way, with her naked body on display for Max's pleasure.

Some thoughts from earlier returned – it can't be all that bad. Rachel has her own fetishes too... but she didn't seem to want to engage with them.

Max sighed a slight huff, letting her eyes drop further down, to her hands grasping each other between her thighs.

Her writing was still there.

 _Be very strict…_

 _Never let her unwillingness or discomfort stop you from getting whatever you want from her, no matter how small…_

 _Because she needs these hardships from you…_

Max didn't need to reread the most questionable parts of her instructions for a thousandth time to remember what they said. Maybe this is exactly the situation that they were revealed for?

Of course, Max could relent and not enforce the rule, with all the risks of not following the contract terms included. But… it's not the risks that made her not want to do that. A gagged Rachel, a restrained Rachel – the writing said that it's the Rachel Max truly wanted, and Max… if she was honest with herself now after seeing her like this today, couldn't disagree.

And it was Rachel's happiness, too. Maybe this was that obstacle that they had to get over first, like Max said over the phone yesterday. Maybe Rachel just needs a slightly firmer hand to see that she enjoys these things.

But…

 _But do not own an animal. You will always need her personality._

… How do you balance the two?

"Makh?" (Max?)

Rachel was getting a little worried since Max was taking way too long to think about this.

Her little interjection earned a look, but one with the same amount of hesitation and conflict. A little bit of guilt, even, because Max was coming to conclusions that Rachel probably wasn't going to like.

Do not own an animal? No, Max didn't intend to, and it already showed through the rules she negotiated with Wells and how she planned to behave herself.

Rachel won't be forbidden to speak, or required to only communicate with woofs or whatever. Even if she was gagged, she could still make human words and have a conversation if she wanted to. She wouldn't wear any animal ears. No face paint, no masks, no tails or tail plugs, no paws. No pet names – she's still Rachel, and Rachel forever. She even gets to keep her feather earring.

Sigh. That's how you balance the two.

Hopefully.

Max had to shake her head a bit, eventually.

"No, I'm sorry, Rachel. It's not just about the contract. You are my pet and I'm going to try to follow the instructions."

That earned a pretty expected frown from Rachel.

"I know it's best for both of us. I want you to try to trust it, too."

Rachel scoffed at that, as much as she could. Trust. This is exactly the kind of thing Max asked Rachel to trust her with – not forcing her into anything. Yet here she was, doing exactly that.

Maybe Rachel shouldn't be surprised. Maybe that's why it made so much sense to run away in the first place.

But… damn. Really didn't take Max long to get here. Is everything going to be like this now? Is Rachel not going to have not just any physical freedom, but any freedom by proxy of Max too? If Max is just going to flat out refuse her requests for it?

She shook her head slightly, and tried to reach her gag with her hands, which were still obviously not going anywhere from the restraints. The rubber prevented the use of her fingers, which would definitely be required to disconnect the gag from the D-rings on her harness, but Rachel tried anyway.

Max obviously didn't feel good about that reaction, and that struggle was pretty pointless too.

"Rachel…"

The best she could do was just rub her cheek against the smooth surface of the top of the rubber sack, unable to even displace the tightly fastened strap. All she ended up doing was just wiping some leftover drool from her chin. And that experience easily confirmed what she already knew and just haven't tried until now – that she wouldn't be able to remove gags on her own. That's something that only other people could do to her – she was at their mercy now.

It was only up to Max.

And with her fingers being completely useless, and her mouth constantly gagged – how is she even supposed to interact with the world? She can't even _grab_ anything like that, not with her mouth or anything.

Rachel let out a frustrated huff and finally gave up, just not even returning her gaze to Max anymore. Actually somewhat trying to resist getting into too much negativity, because that would probably lead to despair.

Because she never felt as helpless as she did now, before.

It was hard not to feel guilty for responding this way, but Max didn't feel like she had a choice. Rachel needed to find it within herself to trust her, because ultimately Max still had her best interests in mind.

Rachel just didn't see it yet.

There was a bit of silence as Max released a long deep sigh.

"… What did you want to talk about?"

Rachel let out a weak scoff-huff in response, closing her eyes and very broadly shaking her head – slowly, as if she just doesn't care anymore. Her eyes ended up off to the side again, looking somewhat downwards and she wasn't even facing Max when she finished the gesture, not looking interested in talking at all.

Max had to let out another sigh.

Of course Rachel didn't trust her – that's why she tried to escape in the first place.

Maybe she just needs Max to perform her role – not wants, _needs_. She didn't need Rachel's immediate trust to do it, did she? She could earn it on the way.

Yeah. It's best to just address everything, then. Try to close off from the obvious discomfort and just try to get through it.

Yeah.

"… Well, then I just want you to listen, because I'm going to explain some important things that you must know."

"So um, first of all. Obviously you must obey all of my orders and do everything I tell you to. I'm not going to give you like… animal commands. Except for one. For now, which is _sit_. Um."

Rachel was still looking away somewhat defeated, but it didn't seem like these words weren't registering at all, so after a small pause Max continued, actually… feeling somewhat more determined now, now that she was setting up rules like a real dom. It was a bit weird but at the same time felt kinda right and made sense from a dom perspective – this is the second time she felt like this since the reveal.

"So by default you must always be on all fours. And you'll only sit, like you're sitting now, when I say sit."

That was a pretty strict thing, and Max was aware that this probably felt a bit cruel if she stated just what Rachel wasn't allowed. So it'd probably be worth mentioning what she can do freely, too.

"… You can speak to me or anyone whenever you want to, or ask for anything you want, or do anything within the leash's length while on all fours except for sitting without permission. Annnd um…"

That was the obvious stuff, and Max thought of also mentioning how she has to follow the leash when it's tugged and such, but that seemed like a no-brainer anyway. Her eyes drifted into the room in attempts to recall whatever other important stuff she needed to say – it was somehow escaping her, now that she was actually here and in control, and Rachel depended on her so much.

Her eyes landed on the cage and the bowls, and duh _that's_ the obvious next stuff.

"You'll sleep in the cage now. It's yours and everything that's yours will be inside it too. I'll lock you in it at nights until mornings, and… during the day too, if you have nothing to do."

That finally earned a reaction from Rachel – a frown, clearly concerned one, and she glanced back at Max, as if not believing whether this was actually serious.

It's not like… she had an idea of what she'd even do with time as a pet, because clearly one can't play fetch or whatever for 16 waking hours every day. But spending that time in a cage certainly wasn't anywhere near what she imagined, or _wanted_ to imagine, because it sounded pretty awful.

Max of course noticed that, and quickly tried to reassure.

"I'll try to give you things to do. They just, like, have to be… you know. At least a bit training-related."

Rachel only released another huff and left her gaze somewhere in front of her, below Max, obviously defeated again.

Still listening, just… clearly not expecting to hear anything she'd like to hear anymore.

"So um… I'll feed you three times a day. You'll be ungagged, of course, but you'll have to eat from your bowls. And… This is important, um."

Max sort of tried to attract Rachel's attention with that last part, specifically so she hears this one. It's probably the biggest rule Max planned to give her initially, and also the last one.

At the pause, Rachel just glanced up at her briefly, leaving her eyes roughly on Max's knees afterwards. Just signifying that she's there.

"You'll have to earn it each time. You'll need to ask me to do something to you, like… something kinky. Just—whatever you're into, or just to play with you as a pet, or…"

Max was clearly a bit uncomfortable with mentioning the next one – she barely imagined what this rule even meant, practically, even with Rachel's naked body like _right there._

"… something sexy. Doesn't have to be intense or painful if you don't want it to be. It's just to keep you in the mindspace for training. -Um, I think. And you can't ask for the same thing more than once a week."

… Great. Earning food.

 _Earning._

This was awful.

Rachel closed her eyes somewhere in the middle of that explanation. All of this was crushing – seriously crushing. Naturally, her mind started striving in search of some sort of comfort, because clearly she was getting none here.

… This isn't forever.

This is just for a few months. Like dad said – a small obstacle in the course of life.

Chloe will be there too. There's no way she won't visit as soon as her arrest ends – tomorrow.

This day is almost over – it's the evening, she'll get to rest and sleep and shut her mind away from the reality.

There was some momentary comfort to extract from these thoughts.

"… But that's it for now. Like I said, just a few things at a time."

Even though Max tried, it seemed to not be good enough, because Rachel just seemed miserable. And that didn't lay well with her at all. Seeing her… like this.

Maybe she'd accept at least some comfort, somehow. Some empathy or sympathy. It's not like Max couldn't give them.

She tried to look into her eyes to catch them when they open up, and leaned just a little closer, trying to be sympathetic.

"… Hey. I know it's a lot. I promise, I won't be cruel to you."

Her voice was gentle – a change from the rules, which obviously sounded a bit stricter.

Rachel just didn't have the strength to talk about it though. Instead, she opened her eyes and looked at Max somewhat flatly – disinterested in opening up.

"So whah nau?" (So what now?)

With Rachel so flatly closed off, Max got the thought that maybe it's best to just leave her feelings be. It's been a long day, and she's been through a lot. They can talk about it later.

… Not like she's going anywhere.

Max distanced herself a little, making a little sigh.

"Um, well… it's almost nighttime, so… I guess I'll lock you in your cage for the night. –But. Hm. Are you hungry?"

The cage part was sort of expected, but hunger prompted a look towards the bowls, and the idea of eating out of them was not particularly appealing. Same as having to do some weird thing to earn it.

And Rachel ate back at the hospital too, so she could skip a meal.

She shook her head.

"Alright…"

The 3 meals a day thing should probably be a strict one, but… Rachel had enough strictness here already. Max just glanced over the room again, trying to recall if there's anything else before proceeding.

… Actually, there was.

"Oh."

She stood up and walked over to those boxes with equipment.

"I kinda have to feed you now though, um…"

The top one was conveniently the one with the gags, so Max quickly pulled out that bottle with the supplement – it was liquid, tasteless by the looks of it, one that you simply mix with water.

She kinda presented it to Rachel from across the room, so she at least saw what it was – Rachel faced her.

"If you don't take this then your jaw is gonna start hurting."

"Okay." Rachel responded flatly and emotionlessly.

There was a pause – a long one, where Max looked at her somewhat expectantly and Rachel simply stared back with no particular expression.

Max eventually let out a little huff, seeing that she clearly wasn't interested in following the rules, or that they simply didn't click as a necessity yet.

This didn't please Max whatsoever, because all it meant was that she had to go through the painful process of insisting on something Rachel didn't want, again.

"You have to earn it now, Rachel. Just think of something you'd be comfortable with. I'll try to do my best."

"Ohr you koult shust kive it to me." (Or you could just give it to me.)

Just as flat and emotionless as before.

Max sighed with defeat now.

"Rachel…"

"Makh."

…

While her tone was obviously insistent, she really was just done with everything today. Her eyes closed briefly, then she mellowed out her expression a bit, from pretty much expressionless to something more tired and somewhat pleading.

She looked Max in the eyes.

"Hleahe." (Please.)

Fuck.

Just-

Fuck.

How was Max supposed to believe that she was doing the right thing?

It sure as hell didn't fucking feel like it. She felt terrible – this wasn't far away from doing exactly what Rachel was afraid of.

What caused her to escape.

Ugh.

No, fuck this-

But- ugh.

What if she's always going to plead like this? Is Max supposed to relent every single time? What about the instructions? Wells' rules?

… Maybe Max needed some time to be okay with this. Just like Rachel did. Maybe they both shouldn't start out heavy, and not just Rachel.

Maybe she could just relent a little bit. Maybe it's okay today – it's literally just the introduction, they shouldn't—go insane on this immediately.

Sigh.

Yeah. It's just the first day. Rachel didn't deserve to be forced so strictly, no matter what she did to end up here.

They could have a compromise.

Of course, this thought process took a bit of a pause where they just stared at each other – Rachel pleadingly, and Max somewhat relentlessly but guiltily, until she relented with a sigh and a few little nods.

She went back to the boxes and picked something out of one of them, showing it to Rachel. A red ball gag, strapless, since Rachel didn't need them with her harness, but that wasn't the point anyway.

"Let's do it like this then. You just have to fetch this ball. Is that okay?"

Rachel glanced at the ball and back up at Max. It… didn't feel like much of a compromise, but it undeniably was one. Small sigh.

"Hine." (Fine.)

"Alright."

There was a little relieved nod. At least they've reached something they're both more or less okay with. Without sacrificing any rules.

Max dropped the ball on the floor – threw it slightly towards Rachel, but weakly enough for it to end up somewhere inbetween them, in the middle of the room.

No animal commands came out though, just as Max promised.

Rachel had another little sigh, but didn't hesitate much before getting back on all fours. It wasn't a long crawl to the ball – just a few steps until her face ended up above it. Another quick reminder happened there, after she automatically tried to use her hand to grab it somehow, but obviously her arms remained folded and restrained, and it only resulted in a vague movement of her elbow as she realized she can't grab with it. Just as instinctively, her next attempt was to lean down to it, but—

Her mouth was tightly gagged. There was nothing to grab it with. How the fuck?...

It was a moment where she just froze in that realization. The same one happened before with attempts to remove the gag, but this one was felt more vividly, since she literally had an object inches within her, but she couldn't grab it with anything at all.

… Well. She flexed her toes a little – her feet were still outside the restraints, but there's no way that's a good idea.

She leaned further down and pushed it forward with her nose.

Ugh.

No.

The next pushes were delivered with her elbows.

The ball made it to Max's feet eventually, where she just picked it up, and Rachel got back on her knees again.

There were a couple of things Max had to stop herself from doing.

A 'good girl' almost came out automatically – it didn't, but Max quickly found it weird that she wanted to say that.

And Rachel got on her knees without permission, which was… bad, but… sigh. Max could start enforcing it tomorrow, it's fine.

"Alright…"

She walked over to the cage and pulled out one of the bowls, setting it down next to Rachel. She had a few water bottles handy, simply it was more convenient than to run down to the cooler each time she was thirsty in her room. Some water was poured inside, then some of that supplement, which had a slight pink shade. She made sure to re-read the instructions on it beforehand – exactly how much to pour and how often, and glossed over how it positively affects the jaw muscles in more than just pain-relieving way.

Then, she crouched down to Rachel's level, loosened the strap below her chin and carefully removed her gag.

Rachel of course stretched her jaw a little, making a few slow chomping motions before looking up at Max.

"You could have just done that 10 minutes ago."

It wasn't angry, it was just an emotionless fact. Rachel wasn't interested in talking anymore - she just… felt like vocalizing something she was clearly unhappy about, because she felt like Max needed to be reminded.

But Max just… sort of left it hanging, leaving Rachel alone to drink and sitting down on the couch with a guilty sigh. Fiddling with her gag in her hands a little bit.

It was probably best for everybody if they simply stopped talking tonight.

Rachel thought so as well.

She simply took to drinking, of course leaning all the way down into the bowl and just sipping up with her mouth. It was… at least it wasn't messy, even though the tip of her nose ended up wet. At this point the symbolism of it was not something either of them cared about concerning themselves with – even Max didn't panic over Rachel being naked and restrained on the floor of her room, which should definitely still be weird.

Eventually, Rachel was done and sat back up, wiping her mouth and nose against one of her rubber armsacks.

A glance was shot at Max, since she didn't seem to pay attention, just looking off somewhere, waiting.

"… Come gag me or whatever."

Max wasn't too eager to, but stood up and walked over nonetheless, securing the white holed gag in her mouth and fastening the strap on her chin. No real exchanges happened there – Rachel simply let her do it, and when she did, wordlessly got on all fours and crawled to the cage, perhaps surprising Max a little. She went through the somewhat narrow door and deeper inside it, nestling on the bedding there, completely turned away from the rest of the room.

What a rough start.

Maybe they both just needed time. Sleep over it. Recharge. It's not that bad – there are things to be hopeful about.

… It's just a really rough start.

Max eventually secured the cage door with a small padlock.

"… Just tell me if you need anything."

Rachel didn't react, and Max didn't expect her to.

Sigh.

The evening didn't last long since then. There were just a few moments that Max could have felt better about. She had to leave for some evening rituals. Dragging Rachel through them today, bringing her to the public bath and all, was just out of the question. Max had to do that on her own, and it gave her a bit of time to think and re-evaluate – in some ways reinforce the idea that Rachel needs to live this to understand, because the writing blah-blah-blah, in other ways that Max should try to be less strict and more relenting, because it hurt to make Rachel as miserable as she was now.

There was some hope too – surely it'd be better tomorrow and later. Today was just a really heavy day. Rachel started it in a cage and ended it in a different one, essentially one of her own making.

When Max returned, Rachel was still laying as she was, turned away from everything, with just her naked back exposed. Max wasn't sure if she was asleep or not, but either way she didn't react to her at all. There was a bit of an awkward moment, because Max had to change into her nightwear, and that included being a little naked with Rachel still right there. Of course it induced thoughts, how couldn't it? But after such a day, entertaining them was just unbearable, so lights-out and sleep was the only cure.

Same as for Rachel, who simply tried to fall asleep after she crawled inside. After such a day, it wasn't hard to be successful.


	8. Good Morning

Rachel woke up to nothing in particular.

It was still quiet, and clearly brighter now, as if morning.

Her breath was calm, but… not free, restricted by the tightness on her neck. It didn't go away.

Rachel was aware of it immediately after awakening, but… not much more than that. She purposefully kept her eyes closed and her body unmoved, just to savor the lingering dreamlike state and not return to the reality just for a little while longer.

That maybe lasted a minute.

But she was awake, and her body automatically started making little unconscious movements, as if slowly booting up on its own, despite her desire.

Her tongue shifted gently, brushing ever so slightly against the gag. She felt it up a little between her teeth, making a tiny hollow sound of contact with the empty plastic ball. Her fingers idly moved a little bit inside the sacks, softly feeling the unrelentingly tight yet incredibly smooth inner surface of her restraints. She could touch the gentle skin of her shoulders or the soft pads of other fingers. Her toes shifted ever so slightly, brushing against each other and attracting her attention to the active tightness of those leather collar-cuffs on her ankles…

Eventually she simply huffed. She was awake, and she wasn't going back to sleep - it was clear. And that made sense, since, she wasn't one to linger in her bed, unless there was a reason to. A reason like Chloe, or a particularly bad hangover, weed, or any combination of these things.

She opened her eyes.

Quiet. Bright. Fresh. Slight but more meaningful movements confirmed that she was still restrained exactly how she was restrained yesterday. The sight of the cage's bars confirmed where she still was.

Somehow, it was an emotionless realization when Rachel thought to herself how this is going to be her every morning from now on. How she would be inside the cage and gagged, how her whole body would be neatly folded up and compact. How she wouldn't be able to stretch out her limbs – she didn't feel like she needed to anymore, thanks to that solution's effects.

But practically, in this very moment, she didn't feel like she cared. Not _didn't care_ , like in an actively 'I'm totally good' way. It was a passive thought of how waking up like this is basically just a thing, and that's it, and it wasn't making her feel anything in particular.

Fully waking up was not an instant process, so maybe that's why she felt that way. But a long night's sleep also proved to be very calming. Recharging. Sort of like a reset point, after which none of yesterday's grievances tugged at her soul.

There was no despair. There was no frustration. No feeling of betrayal. No resentment or reluctance, no weight, no pressing issues of her future.

The sun was shining through the window somewhere above. It was a day, and a day in a life. Rachel didn't know what's going to happen in it. But why think that it's just going to be crushingly bad?

Lots of reasons not to.

Eventually, Rachel wiped the built up drool off her face – something she figured she'd have to do often unless Max gives her a solid ballgag – and rolled over to her other side, facing the rest of the room. It seemed very empty at first glance, to her surprise, until she realized the bed was occupied. Max was still asleep.

Hm. So peaceful.

Like a weekend, but it wasn't.

There wasn't really a way to tell what time it was. Rachel couldn't make out the numbers on Max's alarm clock from the floor across the room. But, after a little bit of lazy laying, she decided to try to get a better peek. She got up on all fours and somewhat awkwardly crawled to the door, as if what she learned about the movement yesterday didn't stick just yet.

Nope. Still couldn't see.

Shame.

She could see the padlock on the door though, and while understanding what it meant, decided to test it anyway by pressing her forehead against the door bars and pushing a bit.

Nope. Didn't budge. She was locked inside.

…

Well.

She didn't feel anything in particular about that either. Simply reality. Not like Rachel was in a hurry anywhere today.

Just… if she was properly awake now, it might get boring to just wait in an empty cage for… however long.

She could try to wake Max up, of course. But… she didn't really want to, nor really saw her boredom as much of a reason to do it.

Max deserved some sleep. Yesterday was a long day, and she didn't look like she felt too good by the end of it. Partly because of Rachel just being done with her. Partly because she _caused_ Rachel to just shut her off.

In hindsight, it wasn't the best time for both of them to insist on anything. Even if it clarified some things and set up how things are going to work.

… Shouldn't be surprising that Max wanted to take the chance to try and follow the writings. She did believe in them.

Sigh.

Rachel… still had a choice of whether to participate in that or not. She could simply shut Max off again and refuse to deal with anything outside of training and classes, except for just being restrained and leashed.

But. Ugh. Why?

It's not like she'll be anything more than a pet in the next half a year regardless of what Max does. Shutting off the one person who's going to be with her the entire time is a bad idea for many obvious reasons. And all it would do is make both of them miserable.

So… maybe it's worth just… preserving some sort of good relationship throughout the months. Or maybe even try a little bit, and see if it works – not much harm in that if it's only temporary, right?

Yeah, of course. Permanence was one of the biggest reasons why Rachel was against this in the first place.

… and maybe it'd be nice to try and find what exactly made her role be _this_ from a kinky point of view. Like what fetishes it's going to cater towards. If Rachel had a submissive side that was apparently strong enough to be cemented into a role, then there's got to be something very appealing in it.

Unless the writing is just wrong and it did malfunction or whatever. That would actually be the easiest explanation.

Ugh.

Made sense too, if Rachel knew so little about her subby self, and never really tried to explore it.

Whatever. That's too much heavy thinking for a morning.

Rachel nestled back on her bedding, this time facing the rest of the room, and just relaxing again.

Not much to look at here, but with a freshly recharged brain it was easy to direct the thought flow away from heavy into light.

Slightly boring. She was promised to have things of her own in here, eventually.

Would be cool if she had like… a tablet, or something.

She could interact with it with her nose.

Hmph.

… Somehow that was funny to think about.

It was about another boring half an hour when Rachel finally noticed some rustling and stirring on the bed. No alarm – it seemed to happen on its own.

There was a little bit of squirming, and in a moment the blanket was lifted. The girl sat up on her bed and made a long and satisfying-looking catlike stretch with a lazy yawn.

That was… cute. Her short messy hair and all. The shirt with the stupid chicks. Short boxers with nothing below – her naked legs seemed kinda nice too. Slim. Small feet with cute little toes and transparent polish, resting on the floor just at about Rachel's level, as if… enticing, or something?

A little bit sexy?

… Huh.

Rachel found herself wondering if she really was that much into feet, because now it certainly felt like she was.

Or whether it was because it was _Max's_ feet. Or Max in general?

Not that Max was ever bad looking in the first place.

Something about that stretch was just so adorable for some reason.

Aren't you kinda supposed to look at your soulmate like this anyway? Hm.

The yawn and the stretch were long and lazy, and when they finally settled down, Max's eyes somewhat sleepily drifted over the room, perfectly nonchalantly and casually, until they inevitably met something new.

The cage. A restrained Rachel. Looking very naked and very awake. Looking at her.

Max jolted just a tiny bit and immediately stiffened up.

"Oh. Um. Hi."

Instant blush.

Rachel would lie if she said that wasn't cute as well, though she never really liked when Max got all uncomfortable because of something out of her shut-in norm, and this looked exactly like that.

"Heu." (Hey.)

Her voice, at least, was perfectly normal, save for being muffled by the gag. Somewhat friendly, actually.

Max somewhat relaxed a little bit in the following seconds of silence, seeing that Rachel was actually not ignoring her or facing away like she was most of last night, and actually said hello back without any visible resentment.

Though most of Max's tensity was still present and probably won't be going away now, or not anytime soon. Seeing Rachel in her room like this after escaping reality for a night took her very off guard.

"… How did you sleep?"

There was that genuine concern, at least, because she did truly care to ask.

And with this morning's thoughts in mind, Rachel figured she may as well express the change by simply being open to Max rather than hashing out the specifics of how yesterday went.

So there was a little shrug.

"Okhay. Ih's hevy sofh in heah." (Okay. It's very soft in here.)

While Max only barely understood the last part, the tone of Rachel's voice worked as somewhat of a reassurance, since yesterday made it feel like they won't go forward without huge constant problems, but today… that was gone, and Rachel wasn't acting like it.

So there was a little smile at the positive answer, but one question remained.

What is she supposed to do now?

Max had no idea.

"Um…"

It's not something Rachel knew either, otherwise she would have helped. It's not like they had a guide for this or anything. Just… rules. But that's another thing.

"Well I… um. I'm gonna go take a shower and then come back and feed you. Alright?"

"… Unless you need to… um…"

Rachel raised an eyebrow slightly at the shower part. Didn't Max take one last night?

… She probably needed an excuse to be alone and think.

The other part at least was not a problem yet. It will be eventually, but not yet.

Rachel shook her head slightly.

"I'm gooh. I'll waih." (I'm good. I'll wait.)

"Okay."

There was a nod and for a moment it seemed like Max needed some extra effort to redirect her attention. When she did though, it never returned to Rachel again – Max's actions were very purposeful as she gathered her needed things, and eventually simply left.

As Max walked around the room, Rachel's eyes kind of found their way to certain parts of Max and just rested there. Like the outline of her butt. Or the cuteness of her bare feet. Rachel's eyes were simply drawn to those, just like Max's were drawn to her features yesterday.

Only Rachel wasn't flustered about it.

If sex would have to be involved at some point, by now she figured she didn't mind it'd be with Max. Actually, it's maybe even something Rachel could see herself wanting, especially after seeing the sights. It just wasn't something she considered a lot before.

But once Max left, Rachel was left alone in the boring cage for another like… half an hour. Which she didn't take as nicely as the previous one.

After seeing Max take to her morning rituals, Rachel's thoughts mostly turned to her own. She was restrained and caged and helpless, unable to go anywhere or do anything. But just yesterday, none of that was the case. And if the reveal didn't happen, it would be the same today – she'd have her regular morning.

She'd wake up in her bed. Stretch and smile. Brush her teeth. Take a shower. Check some social media. Go out early and meet some people to hang out before classes.

She'd probably be out right now, having her regular life, and being kinda happy and free.

But instead she was laying in this cage.

Sigh.

This might be a long 6 months.

So Max returned after a while, and went through the changing process in exactly the same way as yesterday, only with Rachel being exposed to some more of her curves. It was cute and curious, but nothing unexpected happened there this time, and Rachel mostly repeated the same thoughts of interest in her head as Max went through the same shyness and the idea that she should get used to this.

Then, Max gave Rachel a somewhat clueless stare, eventually remembering the food. She disappeared behind the door for another minute or two and came back with a couple of muffins, and placed them on her desk.

The dangling sound of the keys prompted Rachel to get up, and shortly enough the door of the cage was unlocked. Rachel finally crawled outside as Max picked up her leash.

Then she sat up.

Max… hesitated. She had that slightly guilty expression again for a second.

"No, Rachel-"

She kind of sounded like she lowkey pleaded that, and not commanded at all. Even the next part.

"Get back on all fours."

Rachel raised an eyebrow slightly, but Max asked her to nicely enough, so she slowly got back on the floor.

… Practically hovering over her cute bare feet. She really was that much into them, apparently.

Max in the meantime explained.

"You can't sit up like that. You need to stay on all fours until I tell you to sit. Just… try to remember for now, okay? And don't worry about making mistakes at first. I won't punish you or anything."

"… Alright?"

She sort of tried to peek down a little and catch her eyes, even though Rachel didn't bother to raise her head all the way up.

"Yeah." came out all the same though. Rachel didn't sound distressed by it or anything.

"Mm. Okay…"

That went surprisingly well. Max definitely expected pushback like last night, but none came, and that was relieving.

"Um. Now sit."

That sounded closer to a command, yet still a very innocent one. Rachel got back up and plainly looked up at her.

This rule was… probably fine. And she promised not to give her other pet commands, so that's good too.

Despite the success, Max got somewhat uncomfortable here. Her eyes turned to the sandwiches, then back to Rachel, who was just looking up at her expectantly.

"Um…"

She kind of bit the insides of her lips, then decided to do something new – got down on her knees herself, to Rachel's level, in front of her.

That prompted a bit of surprise, but it was probably nicer not to look up at her like Rachel always did.

There was that slightly guilty expression again, unsurprisingly. Max had to resolve herself for a moment.

"So you gotta ask me to do something to you. To get your food."

She was totally serious despite obvious conflict, yet sounded kind of gentle too. A weird mix – an understanding tone but one that ruled out any disputing of what's going to happen.

Rachel, of course, was expecting this conversation eventually. Not like she didn't listen to the rules last night – she didn't want to, but she listened.

She had enough time to bring herself around enough and somewhat accept the idea. Or the parts of it that she thought she knew, because 'do something to you' couldn't sound any more vague.

"Ho… hike whah?" (So… like what?)

"Um…"

Max had no problem understanding this one, at least. The problems came with answering.

"Well, kinky stuff but… I dunno. What do you like?"

Rachel kind of shrugged, and in response to that Max somewhat curved her lips and looked down a bit, thoughtfully.

They both had little to no idea, really. Rachel found herself thinking it would have been easier if there was a stricter but more specific rule. Ugh.

A few seconds passed like this. Many. Max looked up at Rachel as if with an idea a couple of times, but without any words coming out. Rachel even did the same thing, though only once.

… Because there was that idea of acting upon that feet thing. She kind pretty obviously wanted it earlier, but now that it was an actual thing that could happen – that was just weird. And it would send a bunch of wrong messages too, probably. So no.

But like… what wouldn't send messages? And what wouldn't be weird? And what would also be something that Rachel liked?

...

"… I kuehs you kouh phay wih my nip'hes?" (… I guess you could play with my nipples?)

Max didn't really expect that, though to be fair she really didn't know what she even expected, and by now her thoughts started turning towards maybe postponing this rule somehow, or maybe even cheating on it, or something.

She wasn't sure if what she heard was right, either way.

"What?"

Rachel huffed a little, then hinted downwards at her breasts – at each of them, and gave Max a look.

"… Oh."

The hint obviously drew her eyes to them, and the offer to touch them was one hell of a reason to blush.

"Um… Okay…"

A little pause, and Max reached a hand out to her boobs, and hesitated only a million times on the way. It was very cautious and uncertain, and Rachel was more than aware of Max's reluctance. She considered giving her some sort of motivation, but perhaps Max needed to learn something here as well.

So eventually Max's hand made contact, and Rachel spotted some surprise in her eyes. To her, Rachel felt very soft, and very very tender. She made a little grabbing motion for a squeeze, to test that out further.

And everything about it was just… awesome. Except for the obvious awkwardness and blush from not only that but also very obviously getting aroused from touching and exploring Rachel's nipple – its softness, its smoothness, its hard and perky tip, the beautiful shape…

Max wasn't very involved with her exploration, and that's exactly what this felt like to Rachel – exploration. Amusingly enough, it reminded her of her and Chloe's first time. That was the definition of awkward teenage sex. Passionate and cute, but there were plenty of cringy reasons why they usually reminisced about the evening that lead to it rather than the night itself.

So while that was kind a cute in some sense, Rachel didn't find it too amusing after it never elaborated to anything at all – Max didn't seem to gain any confidence no matter how long she explored, and they were certainly a good minute in.

"So… I'm suphoset to feeh koot fhom thihs, hight?" (So… I'm supposed to feel good from this, right?)

While the words themselves could be used for mocking, the question was poised as a very general and literal one, and Max took it as such.

"Yes, of course."

That much at least she wanted to be clear to Rachel, only before a realization hit her, and she suddenly removed her hand, tensing up a little in genuine concern.

"- You don't?"

As if Max did something irreversibly wrong. That earned a little endeared huff from Rachel.

But instead of replying, she started inching on her knees, doing a slow and slightly awkward 180, which prompted a slightly confused look from Max.

She then raised her restrained arms up a bit, exposing her sides.

"Kup hem wih bot hants." (Cup them with both hands.)

It seemed like Rachel had some kind of plan, or was maybe teaching Max how to give her some pleasure. That's… surprisingly helpful and open of her to do, considering yesterday.

Max hesitated just a little bit before inching closer to her behind and her hands nicely cupped Rachel's breasts.

There was so much softness… and Rachel was so close now. She was almost hugging her there – there was even a thought to rest the chin on her shoulder, though Max kept herself from doing that.

… It really was much nicer than what she was doing before. For Max, too.

"Now g'hope tem hike you't g'hope youh own to make it feeh koot." (Now grope them like you'd grope your own to make it feel good.)

Max raised an eyebrow slightly, though didn't hesitate this time – her hands got to work, nicely groping Rachel's soft breasts.

When put like Rachel put it, it was kind of dumb of Max not to be decent at something like this, because it's not like she wasn't a woman herself. Maybe opposite sex soulmates have to get through a barrier of knowledge, but surely Max and Rachel would have it easier, if Max simply thought of it like this.

Somehow, that was giving her confidence.

So as expected, Max wasn't as bad at this, and Rachel could even enjoy it too. Once Max figured out a steady pace, Rachel simply closed her eyes and let herself get focused on the feeling. She did choose this for a reason – breastplay was something she was really into, perhaps a good bit rougher than this, though Max didn't need to know that just yet.

So this really was just enjoyable. Maybe not enjoyable enough to express that enjoyment vocally, but – it was nice and relaxing, and Rachel sort of leaned back into Max a bit, until she could sort of comfortably rest against her.

Perhaps it could have been read as a display of affection, but Rachel didn't really care. She was always like this. Affectionately touchy. Tugging people by their wrists, hugging them, resting on their shoulders.

It was a bit of a surprise for Max under the circumstances, but at the same time not really.

This lasted for a couple of minutes without Rachel calling for a stop – she didn't know how long this was supposed to last, and it's not like it was bad anyway. So Max eventually stopped herself and said that's good enough. With a little thanks to Rachel for letting her do it and – trusting her, to which Rachel responded with a simple nod and a slight shrug.

The gag was removed, one bowl was filled with water while the other hosted the muffins. Rachel still had to figure out how to position herself best on either all fours or to kneel to be able to comfortably lean all the way into the bowls and eat stuff without any utensils. Certainly made her feel like a pet again, but at least not in as terrible of a way as yesterday. And the muffins weren't messy to eat. Made her wonder whether Max chose them over sandwiches or whatever on purpose, to make it easier on her.

After breakfast she was dutifully gagged again, though with a solid blue ballgag now, since she did remember that she needed something more comfortable to prevent drooling and Max was happy to oblige.

A surprisingly good morning for both of them, if not a bit boring at times.

Though when Max made her final preparations to go outside and was ready with the leash in hand by the door, there was another problem. And it was one they've both seen coming inevitably.

Bathroom.

It went… just about as awkwardly as one would expect.

Slaves usually had either their own bathrooms or sections within the regular ones. In the dorms, it was the former, and somewhat conveniently it was a bit out of the way of everything. Just like Max's room. So just around the corner from it.

Leading Rachel outside on the leash in the morning didn't attract any eyes yet, since fortunately there were none and they only were in the hallway for a moment.

The bathroom itself had no stalls, of course, and was understandably smaller than the regular one, since there wasn't exactly a lot of slaves to keep it packed. Instead of a toilet, the thing to use was something between a urinal and a bidet – an oval basin normally built into the floor against a wall, with its longer sides being clingy rubber surfaces to kneel on, and the wall itself having several control buttons for flushing, bidet functionality and drying, for which there was a little air outlet behind the sub that would be facing the wall during the process.

There was three of those setups here, and everything was designed to be operated by people in heavy restraints – the buttons were wide and obvious, and even had different surfaces, presumably for blindfolded people to navigate. Or blind ones, too.

Figuring this out was a bit of a journey for both of them, and the following process of relieving was pretty awkward too, so no words or looks were exchanged after Rachel was done and both of them were content with not dealing with this anymore.

There was a little thing Max remembered that she _should_ have remembered earlier – brushing Rachel's teeth. Since she obviously couldn't do it herself anymore, even if there were sinks all the way on her level.

At least, that wasn't nearly as awkward, and Rachel could somewhat direct Max too, since her gag was briefly removed for the process.

Rachel, of course, had way more morning rituals than that, because when it came to beauty, she took it pretty seriously. How would this go later – neither of them knew. Perhaps another talk was in order, in regards to this specifically. They figured they'd discuss it sometime.

So, Rachel was led back out into the hallway, and they had a journey ahead of them. Max wasted no time getting to it – it felt like she wasn't interested in dealing with people despite knowing she'll have to. It felt that way because she tried to avoid it, and mostly in a slightly annoying way – right after leaving the bathroom, Max tugged Rachel by the leash pretty forcefully, and kept that strong tug as the girl struggled a bit to keep up.

But that struggle turned out to be pointless. The very first door on their way was wide open and just as they were about to pass it a girl emerged from inside – Dana.

She spotted them two immediately, and a gasp made her eyes instantly light up with surprise and joy.

"Oh my _god_. Rachel. Max."

Max just kinda froze in place for a moment while Rachel just crawled up, previously unable to keep up too well. She saw the legs and the familiar shoes and jeans, and kind of looked up to see more of the girl who was towering in front of her.

Dana quickly glanced over them and took in the sight of Rachel in proper pet gear, and aimed her joyful surprise at Max momentarily.

"Is this why no one couldn't find you two anywhere yesterday? You've never told anyone you're going to outfit her!"

And then Rachel got some of it, too.

"But you really are a pet! Oh. My. _God_ \- This is so exciting!"

She was practically brimming with positive energy, and despite being kinda invasive, it made both of them smile slightly, even if Max's was a bit awkward, and Rachel's wasn't exactly visible both because of the gag and because she was down below. Actually, she was about to sit up, but kind of just remembered a thing. She gave Max's ankle a little nudge.

"-Um. Hi, Dana." Max smiled back a little wider. Rachel kind of snapped her out of the momentary panic, and Dana's genuinely-interested-looking demeanor some surprising comfort.

She glanced down at Rachel, who she expected to greet her as well, but then remembered something as well.

"Oh. Sit."

Max seemed to get the nudge, since it basically was a request to sit, even though Rachel noticed herself weirdly both remembering the rule and going out of her way to abide by it here.

She sat up on her knees and finally properly looked up at Dana's face, reflecting her joy with some warm friendliness.

"Heu, Tana." (Hey, Dana.)

Dana clapped her hands excitedly, like she was some kid in a theme park. She was almost always all bubbly, ever since she got her role and her soulmate. Though this time she was clearly overjoyed beyond normal levels, and crouched down to Rachel's level immediately, reaching out her hand to trace her fingers along the rubber of Rachel's arm restraints – it was smooth, shiny, impeccable and tight. Beautifully black with a little glint.

"Wow…"

She had this gaspy mouth-agape fascination on her face.

"This is so cool, it looks _awesome_ on you."

"Tankhs." (Thanks.)

Rachel was smiling more widely herself now, since Dana's joy was just contagious. It was hard not to enjoy such positive and intense interest, because of all people's, Dana's surely came from the right place.

"Looks really tight. How did you- when did- why didn't you two tell anyone?"

Her eyes glanced between the girls, back and forth, before they stopped at Rachel and kind of started traveling down, checking out her naked body with about the same fascination as her restraints.

Clearly, she found it beautiful.

Max was the one to answer that, albeit feeling a little out of place here – Dana was more Rachel's friend than hers, even if they did talk from time to time.

"It was kind of a surprise for us too. Rachel has a… special contract with the school…"

Dana's eyes briefly went up to her.

"Oh?"

Then, they fell back onto Rachel and the gag and everything, and suddenly it clicked.

" _Ooooooh,_ you get train here, don't you? _"_

Rachel kind of nodded a bit, simply to confirm without expressing any thoughts about it.

"Aww, now I'm jealous."

She faked a little pouty face, and playfully nudged Rachel in the shoulder.

"You've got this amazing suit and _Max_ for a dom _and_ you get to train here too. This is so awesome."

Rachel shrugged slightly, smiling.

"I guehs." (I guess.)

It was nice how all her petness received was positivity right now – perhaps that's exactly what Rachel needed here. It's no secret that both Max and her were kind of dreading some of the reactions, especially considering they practically ignored everyone for a couple of days, which normally would be kinda unacceptable for Rachel.

But this was going really well so far, so both of the girls kinda relaxed a little.

Dana glanced from Rachel to Max with her wide grin and kind of clenched her fists slightly from just all the sheer happiness she was apparently feeling for them.

"I just can't believe you two. I thought your roles would be the opposite – everyone did. And now you're a pet, too, just like me."

Rachel huffed a little playfulness there.

"Wehh, not ekhakly." (Well, not exactly.)

"Well- yeah, but- You know. I wish _I_ was fulltime sometimes. That sounds really awesome."

Dana's eyes glanced up at Max again.

"… But it's a lot of responsibility too, for the other side."

Smirk.

"I'd get into all kinds of messes."

Her went back down to Rachel.

"-Hey. How come you've never told me you wanted to be a pet?"

This sounded more predominantly curous, unlike the rest, which sounded just joyful and happy. It was a bigger question too, and Dana glanced at the gag there, then kind of hinted at it and glanced up at Max.

"Can you..?"

"Oh. Um. No, sorry."

Watching their exchange was actually pretty cool – Max wished she had more friends like that, so they could simply throw their joy at her like that for no reason at all.

On the other hand… it would get pretty tiring, eventually.

"M. Okay."

The tone indicated that Dana didn't seem to mind the gag at all, and the idea of removing it seemed to have left her mind immediately after Max's response.

Unlike with Rachel, but – whatever. It was a ground rule, which meant she had to make do.

"Wehh, I kinta neveh thout about it befoh." (Well, I kinda never thought about it before.)

To that, Dana seemed to turn a little incredulous.

"Really?"

It was never a secret that _she_ wanted to be one. A cute happy puppy. Not a _human_ pet, like Rachel. And not fulltime, too – usually on Trevor's demand, her dom's, but quite routinely. It was not an uncommon sight to see Dana happily trotting along her Master on a leash, or playing fetch outside when the weather was good, joyfully barking and all. Her gear usually wasn't as restrictive as Rachel's, with her legs bound into a fold with fluffy paws on her knees, and fluffy paws on her unrestrained arms, with either some puppy mask-ring-gag or just face paint, and of course the doggy tail plug.

Sometimes more naked than not. Depending on the weather. Still – plenty of reason for Rachel to point out it was different earlier.

And for now, simply shrug a little bit.

"I thout I't be a tom as wehh." (I thought I'd be a dom as well.)

"Oh."

That kinda seemed to make sense to her.

"… Well, in that case. Let me just tell you–"

Her smile was quick to return, same as the joy and bubbles.

"- you're so lucky to be a sub. It is the _best_ thing in the world, and you're going to absolutely love it. _Nothing_ will make you feel as liberated as being a pet."

"Liberated?"

"Lipehatet?" (Liberated?)

Huh.

Both of the girls seemed to be confused by Dana's choice of words, which kind of made Dana a little confused in return, glancing between both of them, since apparently to her it was such an of-course thing.

"Well, _yeah_ , of course."

…

"It's like the main appeal of it."

Another pause, and both of them looked at Dana with varying levels of incredulousness.

Dana made a tiny thoughtful frown, though frowning didn't seem to take away from her energetic demeanor at all. It just seemed like she figured she had to explain herself here.

"Okay so like, when you're just, _you_ , you always have this weight over your shoulders that you don't notice until its removed. Like… you _always_ have to worry about stuff. You have to wake up on time. You have to do your morning chores before class, you have to worry about studying, about behaving, about where to be and what to do and how to do it, about your future too, about the world and whatever else, and it's just a lot to worry about, constantly. And everything about you is always your responsibility, so you just can't not worry. But you're so used to it you don't realize the weight is even there."

She stood up somewhere around here, gesticulating her explanation along the way.

"So when you take some time to be a pet, gear up and get down on all fours, all of that weight is removed. You don't have to worry about _anything,_ because _nothing_ is your responsibility anymore. All you have to do is just follow your leash, do whatever you're told, and have fun. Your needs are not for you to worry about. Others will take care of them. Of _you_. No matter what you do or what you need. You just don't have to care, unlike whenever you are not a pet."

"That's what's so liberating about it."

…

… Huh.

Dana could tell she hit something there just by the look of the girls' clearly thoughtful faces and the silent pause surrounding them.

They both considered… and both could see that Dana had a point. Particularly Rachel, since she was the pet here, and that seemed like a legit approach – she certainly could try it on and put herself within the framework, and see that maybe it did work somehow.

Maybe Rachel really didn't need to care. It's going to last for 6 months, at least, but it's going to end eventually. Until then – just follow the leash, and do as you're told. Others will take care of everything else.

… Huh.

"… Tat sounts cooh, akshulhy." (That sounds cool, actually.)

Rachel's voice, despite being muffled, sounded genuinely enlightened by this bit of Dana-puppy-wisdom.

Hopeful, even.

Which prompted an endeared smile on her face.

"It does, I told you. Just let-"

Dana eyed Max playfully.

"- _others,_ take care of you."

More playfulness.

"… You will take care of my girl, right?"

Max gave her a confident nod.

"Of course."

Her voice was not as enlightened as simply lightened – this was a surprisingly wholesome interaction with little to no discomfort, and Rachel's positive reception of it inspired real confidence. If this is how Rachel chose to handle everything, that would be great, because it also would involve her trusting Max with her, which is the trust Max was doubtful of ever earning.

"Good."

There was a pause where Dana just smiled, and everyone thoughtfully smiled back until Max scratched behind her head a little and remembered something.

"Well, we shouldn't be late to our first class…"

"-Right, right. Training, _of course_."

Dana made that sound playfully important, but lingered her gaze on them for one second too long, especially on Rachel, who was just cutely sitting there with a leash held up by Max's hand. She let out an endeared sigh.

"I'm just so happy for you two. Can I-? Before you go?"

She hinted at Rachel, and neither of them really understood what that hint meant.

But that didn't matter, since Max was on a thoughtful smiling autopilot she was way too slow to disengage, so there could only be a positive response.

"Um, yeah, sure."

Dana was trustworthy enough anyway, to retrojustify the instant permission.

Dana grinned with a satisfied hum and crouched back down to Rachel, and suddenly embraced her with a hug, squeezing her tightly.

Rachel didn't quite expect _that_ , but it was more than welcome, and prompted a little giggle as the squeeze happened.

"You're gonna be a _great_ pet. And you're gonna love the training. I am so glad for you, Rach."

The hug wasn't too lengthy, so Dana let her go in a few moments, just completely unable to resist giving the top of Rachel's head a couple of little pats and a tiny stroke, which Rachel, surprisingly, didn't find degrading at all, and only kinda encouraging, in the carefree Dana way.

She felt hopeful now. For real. This really did go very well.

"Tankhs. I'hl see you hateh." (Thanks. I'll see you later.)

Dana finally stood up and stepped aside to let them pass.

"Have a great first day, you two. See ya."

"See you." Max smiled back.

Her eyes briefly went down to Rachel, and her hand gave her leash a little tug, accompanying it with a gentle word.

"Come."


	9. Introduction

Good news, everyone. I've decided to be less of a social outcast and make a community of sorts. A lot of people are interested in discussing the world of Soulmates as well as the characters and all the endless possibilities, and of course all the juicy kink. And I already happen to have a Discord server.  
So come yell at me for being slow at writing chapters.

/49Xb9Yu

If the formatting meme butchers that, simply paste 49Xb9Yu into the join server field.

Also, apart from simply discussing and having kinky fun, the server is the perfect place for roleplay. Imagine how cool would it be to co-write your own kinky soulmates story, either within the fanfiction's world, or your own, tailored for you and your partner. Or partners, like DnD text-campaign style, or simply playing out a story together as different Blackwell trainees.  
If you like writing at all, it's guaranteed fun. I've been doing it for years.

Plus, I've got other kinky stories up on the server in the roleplay format, if you're interested in more serious and thought-out kinky LiS content. Ever wanted to see Victoria blackmail Rachel into sexual slavery, and how Chloe helps her through the hell? A handful of hundreds of thousands of words might be already waiting for you.

And you get to worship me as your god. What's not to like?

Come join the fun.

now pretend the formatting on this site is good and there's a double line break here to smoothly transfer you from author talk to the actual story

It was a sunny, warm morning.

In fact, the mood outside matched the mood inside the two girls almost perfectly – hopeful and light.

Their interaction with Dana provided a new perspective that was mostly for Rachel to consider. For Max, what made her so comfortable was Dana's attitude to them, how she was so happy, curious and gleeful.

It reminded Max of what being a soulmate is – happiness. And right now, with everything that happened, she really did need that reminder.

Because it certainly didn't feel like her match with Rachel was anything but problems and guilt ever since the reveal.

Perhaps, Max quietly hoped, Dana was able to make Rachel feel the same way too. That they're not really forced into despair and obligations and unhappiness. That instead, their lives are intertwined in a beautiful way, and they can make the most of it – everyone else saw it, so why couldn't they? It works for everyone.

Things will probably be alright.

The new perspective, too, was quite impactful. Apart from Dana's too-contagious giddiness. It was so simple and so easily understandable, once Rachel started thinking within its frame. Her leash was tugged, she got back on all fours, and simply crawled alongside the walking legs.

She couldn't do anything about anything else, so nothing else really mattered.

It wasn't her responsibility if they were late. It wasn't up to her to care about where they're even going – Max will lead her to the right place anyway. It wasn't important to consider what to do today, because Max will plan it all out. Max will take care of her. Every day. That is her role – taking care of a pet – and that's what she's going to do.

Things will probably be alright.

So for the immediate now, Rachel thought not to bother herself with any of the aforementioned worries, and simply open up to enjoy the journey.

A bit surprisingly, opening up caused her to notice something very quickly. That being restrained was fun. There was that feeling again, now that Rachel had distances to work with, of the crawling process simply being physically pleasing. But she was much more open to this now than yesterday, so there was much more to it.

It was fun to struggle against the tightness. It felt nice and comfortable to have her arms and legs folded so neatly, into such appropriate-for-crawling position. It was even _cool_ she had no use of them, nor of her mouth – she was quite helpless overall, and pretty much meant to be. It was somehow satisfying to realize that she was unable to say, grab a stone along the path with her hand, or bite onto the hem of Max's jeans to give her an attention-seeking tug, or even fully close her mouth, or simply unfold her own legs for no particular reason other than her own whim.

That satisfaction was… more akin to pleasure, coming from a place where arousal often came from.

Kink.

If she enjoyed it _like this_ , then being in bondage must have definitely been one of her kinks, and not just something she happened to like as a one off experiment with Chloe.

… Which implied the writing wasn't wrong about _something_ , at least. Being in bondage is certainly a submissive thing, and before all of this, Rachel hadn't imagined herself enjoying putting others in bondage in the same way she enjoyed being in it now.

Whether now was _better_ than that was still a question, though Rachel found herself leaning towards enjoying being in it, surprisingly, or at least _right now_ – that was another concern. The 'fulltime' is the much bigger problem than the 'human pet'.

But there was more to enjoy about the walk and distract herself with. The warmth of the sun on her bare back. The calm caress of the morning breeze that surprisingly wasn't chilly at all. The very occasional streaks of grass giving her stomach or nipples a tiny tickle ever so often.

Rachel found herself not minding the nudity too much. Certainly didn't make her feel as vulnerable as yesterday, especially thanks to some of the looks. Mostly they were slightly astonished because it was _Rachel_ crawling like a pet in pet gear.

There were only a few, but it was enough to make Max just slightly less comfortable, but only briefly, since a couple of people passed with some enthusiastic or amused greetings, and there was a smile-inducing compliment somewhere in there too, something along the lines of 'damn, looking good'.

They entered the training part of the Academy grounds pretty quickly anyway, and nobody Rachel knew hung out there, so that part of the crawl was uninterrupted until the end.

In fact, the grounds were a little more empty there, with only a sub or two. People in training mostly just stuck to the training facility and the grounds behind it, since – as far as Rachel knew – that and the Dungeon had everything they could possibly need.

Well. She'd never been down there, but she knew it wasn't literally a dungeon. It was a dormitory for trainees with whichever living conditions the owners wanted them to have. For the most part, they were pretty regular dorms, with only a few extra rules and such, and nothing too out of ordinary.

Though there must have been a separate wing for fulltime subs too, right? Because their living conditions were often restricted heavily…

But either way, it wasn't even called the Dungeon, not officially. It was nothing more than just a clever nickname that came with its location – it consisted of several large and wide floors and rooms under the training building itself.

There probably wouldn't be any reason for Rachel or Max to go there, not that they knew the way anyway.

Still, they knew and walked the way to the topside facility, and once they made it inside, the difference between the morning atmosphere of rest of the Academy and here was immediately more than striking.

The sight was actually a little overwhelming to Max, at first. Those previously empty hallways were _filled_ with trainees now, as if she was in the main academy building among regular students during a busy school day. But the contrasts between those students were way more prominent and so outwardly kinky in _so_ many different ways.

You wouldn't randomly see such variety in public, unless you're at a festival or something. Or, at a training facility for this exact kind of people. Here.

Perhaps that's why nobody paid any attention to them at all. In here, Rachel's suit and position were barely any more unusual than their surroundings.

But still, the amount of people was almost kind of staggering. It was strange to see just how many of them were here – where did they all come from? How vast was the dungeon, if they were from there?

The girls moved through the halls slowly, studying the surrounding dynamics with their eyes.

Some of the people looked like regular students with nothing unusual about them. Just some – a small amount, maybe one in 7 or 8. Though on a second look, sometimes something about them was very slightly off – like them being barefoot, or wearing stylish but obviously tight slave collars, or wrist bands with some noticeable attachment points, or having tiny locked padlocks on the heels that looked especially high. Many little things like that.

But a much larger amount of people, probably about a third of them all, wore something considerably more outwardly kinky. Sometimes kind of like regular clothes in design, but always made of some kink-related material like rubber or different leathers or other fabrics, and very revealing, usually, highlighting and presenting the sexual features of their bodies, sometimes with something kinky attached to them.

A certain part of that third, on the opposite, had some or all of their sexy features hidden and locked in metal chastity gear. In fact, on a quick glance, a surprising amount people wore _some_ kind of chastity. Maybe some popular curriculum required it, or several, but not all. It seemed to be much rarer that people wore full sets, with the bra and wrist and ankle cuffs and chains and everything – there _were_ a couple passing by here and there, but more usually people wore just a piece or two, in various combinations of them, down to one simple chastity belt.

It was hard to judge whether the clothed people wore chastity too, but it wasn't a stretch to guess that many of them did. Probably makes sense that the trainers would want to control such things, especially with a whole building of kink at the students' disposal. They wouldn't study all that well if they were all spent by the time they reached class.

At least, there was one thing that was more or less the same about everyone – it was near impossible to find a person without a tight collar, even if their kinds, designs and material varied greatly from leather and cloth to metal to whatever else.

So another large amount of trainees, another third of them all or so, was plainly naked people. Naked but with a collar, or sometimes some extra piece of gear that didn't take away from their nakedness. A gag. A buttplug. Very commonly, lined steel slave cuffs – sometimes actually locking the wrists together, or chaining the ankles, or somehow restraining otherwise – boxties, reverse prayers, elbow spreader bar behind the back and so on. Some people wore armbinders and other leather stuff. Though there were smaller accessories too.

Max even found herself staring at some nipple weights that passed her by.

… And obviously the pierced nipples that painfully carried them.

The amount of nudity and kink all around her was so overwhelming that her blush didn't even equate to arousal – there were just so many cool sights that Max couldn't focus on one and draw anything from it before her eyes jumped to the next, and the next, and the next, endlessly.

She was like a kid in a candy store, but one that didn't know what to do about all the candy, even if she was able to buy it all for herself.

And that wasn't the end of it, too, because there was one more kind of people. Those akin to Rachel in extremeness of their outfit, and they were rare – even rarer than the regular-student-looking trainees, but definitely there. Full body suits of rubber, a couple of pets in similar yet slightly more lenient gear to Rachel's, some dollified person… Those that weren't in suits were usually in very rigorous metal – either a large single piece getup restraining the whole body, or smaller but numerous restraints that seemed to make mere walking or crawling an effortful task – sometimes even sexually, with some kind of invasive piece.

But there was definitely a fair share of crawling people too, restrained and otherwise. Usually they were all pretty naked save for their restraints. These were the only kinds of people Rachel could make any kind of eye contact with, considering that everyone else pretty much towered above her very grounded self. But again – no special attention was paid. If outside this was a normal _occurrence_ , then inside this was their _constant_ way of life.

And speaking of the way of life – it very much was a school atmosphere, too, with people talking and sitting on their phones and such, with those who weren't allowed them simply peeking in. Max even had to tug Rachel slightly out of the way of the cheerleading team of several properly dressed ponygirls.

The alcoves were mostly all in use, too. With subs either sitting on the benches or kneeling on the mats, and people casually conversing, even having snacks and whatnot. The actual devices in those alcoves were unoccupied, perhaps indicating that it's more of a punishment thing, like in Stella's situation, which would be curious for Rachel to learn about the resolution of, if she wasn't too absorbed in her surroundings, and if they were even heading back to that hallway, which they weren't.

Overall, the sights prompted a meaningful sense that the girls didn't really know this place at all – it was like a whole new world that was nothing like the Blackwell that they knew and lived at. _This_ Blackwell had _so_ much more to it than what they were exposed to, it was actually kind of crazy how lacking their knowledge was, considering the scale of this place.

… Perhaps it really did need a good representative.

For Max, that sense of not knowing was actually a curious thing. Somewhat exciting, even, somewhere deep inside, thanks to its implications - if there was so much more to kink than she knew, so many ways to indulge, so much vibrancy... Max definitely felt an inner _need_ to delve into it all. Like it was all already a part of her, somehow, and always was, but she simply lacked the knowledge, and her insides yearned for it.

For Rachel, that feeling wasn't much of a worry. The moment she felt it could become one, thanks to the worrisome implications that she didn't know what was ahead, she dipped back into 'it doesn't matter', and it was pretty helpful, still. That's simply not her responsibility to care – she can just do what she's told, and she'll be fine.

But yeah, maybe once she's accustomed, she could branch out into getting to know these people and the way things work around here, and how this world operates. It was hard not to notice all of the social opportunities this place had. New friends to make. New completely unexplored activities to partake in.

But right now? She had no weight pressing her into it. It's just the first day.

The girls moved through the halls without stopping, slowly. Their destination, as Max was instructed yesterday, was somewhere on the second floor, at the tip of the building's L shape.

So pretty much almost as deep in it as one would have to go. It wasn't a maze, but Max did have to recheck the book thing she was given to make sure she was going the right way.

Despite the slowness and the Dana encounter earlier, they comfortably made it to the right place in just a few minutes before 9. It was somewhat of its own wing, a little different from the downstairs hallways mainly because of the frequency of the class doors, of which there seemed to be about twice as much, and noticeably fewer students around.

Each of the doors, aside from being numbered, was also denoted as 'Individual training room'. Rachel peeked up from the floor to catch that writing on the way, and it seemed to make good sense, if she was going to meet her handler.

The particular room they needed was already open, though upon walking into it Max was surprised to find it empty – devoid of humans, that is. The room, while being about half as large as a regular classroom, was unsurprisingly well equipped with all kinds of kinky tools and gear. A proper BDSM room. It vaguely reminded them both of the outfitting place, but instead of that doctor's office vibe it had, this one had a strong classroom feel to it.

Partly because it looked very much like one, style-wise. They could definitely tell they were at Blackwell.

But most of the kinky tools were out of the way. Larger stuff by one the walls or at the back, smaller stuff on racks and such, plus kink-educational posters and whatnot on the walls. The main area in the center, a bit deeper into the room, was empty, presumably to be used for whatever scenes or training practices would need the space. Not far from the door, as usual, was the teacher's place – trainer's – with a desk and a comfy chair, like in the usual classroom, only centered and not off to the side.

It even had a whiteboard behind it for whatever reason, hung up slightly higher than normal.

In front of the teacher's desk, where the closest student desks would be, was instead a single slave mat.

After a brief moment to take in the surroundings and check the phone to make sure they were on time, Max lightly tugged Rachel by the leash further into the room, seemingly unsure of what to do now. There were a couple of chairs off to the side of the desk, where she could probably sit.

But not Rachel, hm. Max decided to tug her leash towards the mat, and once Rachel crawled into place, there was a command.

"Sit."

Her hand was really quick to get very natural at directing Rachel with the leash. Small tug here, another there, and she seemed to respond to it just as naturally by moving pretty much how Max wanted. It was actually even fun, because the control was so smooth and perfect. Rachel probably didn't even realize it was.

She was faced towards the desk and the whiteboard, and Max finally let go of the leash, even if a bit reluctantly for some reason, to sit on one of those chairs.

Even with Dana's insight in mind, Rachel found herself feeling slightly anxious, kneeling in front of the desk like that, on a slave mat, all properly restrained and practically naked.

A glance to Max, her supportive looking Mistress, helped to keep that feeling at bay, but thankfully it didn't have any time to fester anyway – any foreboding thoughts were interrupted by a new person walking in.

"Hello. Miss Caulfield?"

Her eyes were instantly on Max due to her sitting almost opposite of the entrance, so Rachel was the second to earn a greeting – one with an outwardly pleasant friendly smile.

"Rachel."

It was a woman in her late thirties, probably, kind of a little pale with blond hair tied into a short ponytail. Sort of an athletic vibe there, though mostly thanks to complexion and not the clothes – she didn't seem to be wearing anything sportsy, or even kinky, unlike everyone else in the halls. It was something more business casual, as you'd expect from a normal teacher.

She somewhat confidently closed the door behind her as she walked inside without hesitations, and set her bag down to the desk, as if she'd done this a thousand times before.

Max in the meantime replied with a respectful "Hello." while Rachel made a similar greeting-sounding sound, something closer to a "Hi.", seeing how she addressed her by the first name right away.

There was a little couple of seconds of silence as the woman took some things out of her bag – nothing kinky, as far as the girls could tell, and put it down to the floor to the side of the table.

But then her eyes went to Rachel as if in some minor confusion, or perhaps expectantly, and flicked to Max for a second or two, then back, and repeated the gesture, with her eyes finally questioningly landing on Max.

"… Why isn't she greeting me?"

That prompted a bit of surprise in both girls.

"Hehho." (Hello.)

Rachel put more effort into that, but only earned a brief glance before the woman's eyes returned to Max with the same question, while Rachel was left confused herself.

And Max felt awkward already. It felt like they were missing some kind of important ritual or something that they were supposed to know about, but didn't.

"Um. She's… new?"

That seemed to momentarily placate the woman, as her response was a slight amused huff.

"Yeah, I could tell just from the posture."

Her eyes somewhat glanced over Rachel's naked body, which prompted her to straighten herself from the minor automatic slump she was kneeling in until now, but it was hard to tell whether that was satisfactory at all.

In fact, it wasn't, because the woman's features turned serious in a moment, seemingly thanks to that gesture.

"… Wait. _How_ new?"

Suspicious.

Max was a little slow.

"… She was outfitted yesterday."

That seemed to not change anything at all in the woman's questioning look, which Max still wasn't sure what to make of. She made a little shrug.

"… Our reveal was two days ago."

"Two days?"

It seemed to come as a surprise, though the girls quickly figured that this was Wells' way to keep the whole escape affair in secret. Not telling anybody any surrounding details. She probably just knew about the contract, and nothing outside of that.

So she didn't seem completely bewildered or anything – it was just surprising and unusual.

"How much petplay have you done before?"

This one was aimed at Rachel specifically, unlike the rest. It was a little weird actually how Max basically spoke for her until now.

Rachel shook her head very slightly.

"None."

Now _that_ surprised her more than anything so far.

"What. _None?_ You're kidding. None at all?"

Rachel confirmed it with a proper negative headshake.

"… Okay. Let's pretend that makes sense."

Didn't seem to lay well in her mind. Well – understandably so. Everyone else in this room was just as clueless as to why was Rachel a pet, if she never had any curiosity about being one.

"But you _are_ familiar with the standard required behaviors and Blackwell rules for pets-in-training, right?"

There was a pause. Rachel glanced slightly at Max, and Max glanced back at her, and both of them were pretty clueless.

"Have you even _seen_ them?"

Again the same pause, but Max got an idea with a tiny quiet "Um."

She raised that book thing Wells gave her, guessing that perhaps this is what the trainer meant?

She only briefly glanced at it, and instantly shook her head a bit.

"No, those are unique to your contract."

Her voice got just a tad more stern there, as if slightly frustrated, and seeing that neither of them could answer positively, she briefly raised her eyes to the ceiling with a weary sigh.

"I don't mean to be rude. But how in the world does someone sign up for the most unique, practically experimental type of study at the most prestigious training academy in the Northwest without any former experience or knowing even the slightest details about how the training is conducted here?"

That... would be really sobering if the girls had any choice in the first place. Instead, this was simply an awkward situation – neither of them knew what they were supposed to say or lie. Presumably, this is the kind of thing Wells was supposed to take care of, right?

But maybe… it made sense. Wells practically set everything up overnight. He did have plans to introduce something like this already, and had the project in the works for some time, as he told Max, but it was simply not prepared to be immediately turned into a real thing with a real student in basically less than a couple of days.

So some of this miscommunication should be expected, probably. Maybe Max should pay a visit to him to talk through it later, if he doesn't summon her first.

But for now – Rachel's eyes turned to Max, not just because she was still gagged, but also since Max is supposed to know more than she does.

And Max finally came up with somewhat of a deflective excuse, after a long and fairly weighty pause.

"… Um. We thought that… we'd learn that here? … That's kinda the point of the training, right?"

That answer wasn't satisfying, even if technically not incorrect.

"Well. _Yes_ , but-"

The trainer huffed through her nose a bit, and sighed, shaking her head a bit, leveling out from the momentary frustration into somewhat of an explanation mode.

"Normally the submissives are expected to have a certain level of knowledge and _skills_ when they begin the training. You don't just get accepted into here without any foundation to work with."

Pause. She looked at Rachel.

"… Unless you're a special case, I suppose. Which somehow you are. I just wasn't told we'd have to _build_ your foundation too."

Another sigh, a slight one this time, as she rubbed her forehead slightly.

"That… complicates things."

There was another pause, again, as the trainer placed her other palm on the table and leaned in slightly, seemingly having retreated to some sort of deep thought, looking at nothing in particular.

Neither of the girls were happy with that. What she was saying didn't bode well for Rachel at all – complicates things? Would there be a lot more expected of her? Are they going to 0-100 this like with the suit, too?

The thoughts were a bit anxious, and Max felt their presence, having similar ones herself, until they compelled her to interrupt the silence.

"So what do we do?"

The trainer's eyes raised up to her, with what apparently was a solution.

"Nothing yet. We'll have to have postpone our discussion of the initially preferred direction until there's something we can work with. Which at least means that it's clear where to begin now – with a general introduction."

"… The only problem is that I don't know what this means long-term. There isn't much time to throw around like that if you plan to graduate in just 6 months. If there are more surprises like this on the way, it would be wise of you to adjust your expectations accordingly."

Rachel eyed Max with concern. It's not that the possibility of this taking longer than half a year was not a possibility, but it wasn't something that was meant to be expected either.

Even if it doesn't change the fact that this would eventually end, having to train for 1 or 2 more months than assumed did not sound like a good thing to anyone.

Max caught that glance briefly, but had little to say in response. Perhaps something to discuss with Rachel later.

"I understand."

"… And if there's anything I need from you, I'll let you know shortly."

Max nodded to that.

The trainer nodded back slightly as well, as if concluding that line of thought, then pushed herself up a bit from the table and laid her eyes at Rachel.

"Well, with that off script adventure over, I suppose it's time to do what we came here to do."

She straightened herself a bit, and placed her palm on her chest in a long overdue introduction.

"My name is Melinda Hayward, and I will be your handler."

Her eyes glanced briefly to Max.

"That's Mrs. Hayward to you-"

Then back to Rachel.

"- and Trainer or Handler to you."

Her voice went into the well familiar lecture mode.

"A handler is normally a student's supervisor and advisor to their Dominant, and in particular cases an individual trainer. In our case, my role will be much more essential, as I will be the one who sets your bars and goals, and makes sure that you have everything you need to achieve them. As such, I am the go-to person when it comes to any training-related request or question or idea or whatever else."

"Additionally, I am what Mr. Wells nicknamed 'a bridge' between the Academy's PR needs and yourself. I will be managing the ways in which you'll represent the Academy, and make sure that nothing that you can't handle is ever asked of you. You don't need to expect anything other than brief interviews at first, but as your training continues and you master new skills, your responsibilities will include attending to school events and performing community service, and mine will include determining your role in them according to the stage of the training process, so that they may be used to hone your skills further."

"And, of course, a large part of your training is entirely individual, which means that I will physically be there to train you one on one, in parallel with whatever classes you'll be taking."

This was a lot of information, but a lot of useful and detailed information that left few questions in the girls' minds.

"But you won't be taking any in the next following days."

Her eyes suddenly turned to Max.

"Unlike you, Ms. Caulfield. I believe your safety class starts right about now, so normally you would be headed there right after you drop off Rachel."

"Oh- right."

Max's eyes kind of widened slightly since she totally forgot, and any physical relaxation of sitting in the chair was immediately replaced with the urge to-

Mrs. Hayward shook her head to that.

"Not today. I want you to stay for a few more minutes. It's okay to be a little late."

"O-okay."

Max slightly fidgeted in the chair, forcing herself back to patience.

Mrs. Hayward's eyes turned back to Rachel with a bit of a gear change from explaining to kind of slightly commanding.

"An integral part of training is maintaining discipline. As a Submissive, you are supposed to address your superiors by their titles – Handler of Trainer for me, Trainer for any other trainer in the building, Mistress for your Dominant, and so on. Only the former two are enforced, but you are expected to be attentive to your superiors and always act respectful towards them."

"And a part of that respect is _properly_ greeting them back. What I expected to hear from you earlier was 'Hello, Trainer.' You'll have plenty of chances to practice that. More importantly, you must always immediately reply to any questions your superiors ask you, and always be absolutely honest when it comes to questions regarding your physical or mental state."

"… Got it?"

All of this stuff so far was usually expected from most subs anyway, so nothing really phased Rachel from the speech, other than maybe the few contrasts she was exposed to, like how she wasn't allowed to address people the same way as Max, and how the handler addressed her differently from Max. Kind of highlighted her new lower position, which was… eh. But she didn't mind it too much, again – discipline stuff is normally expected, especially at a training facility, so there was little to no resentment to the idea.

She figured the question was a little test, so -

"Yes, T'haineh." (Yes, Trainer.)

Mrs. Hayward lightened up slightly.

"Good girl."

That certainly felt like something you'd say to a pet, even if it didn't have anything degrading in it. Rachel figured she'd hear things like this a lot now, which was … okay. More okay when it was praise, like now, because praise by design is meant to feel nice, and it kind of slightly did.

The handler continued.

"I'll walk you through the basics of discipline today, so you really want to pay attention. I will be lenient at first, but other trainers will expect you to abide by them by default, and flawlessly, and will punish you for not doing so. And this is not the kind of punishment you want to earn – in here, the punishment is _disciplinary_ , with the fun factor intentionally kept at the minimum. If earning punishments does it for you, then you really should earn them from your Mistress instead, and not the trainers here."

Rachel had little problems with discipline before, other than skipping a class or two sometimes with Chloe, which was totally okay anyway thanks to her large credit of trust. It's not something she expected to have a problem with.

So she nodded.

"Yes, T'haineh." (Yes, Trainer.)

Mrs. Hayward paused slightly.

"… You don't have to confirm that. You just need to answer questions whenever they're asked or implied. Or- orders. You'll develop a feeling for when it's appropriate with practice, and I'll explain more to you as we go."

Max was starting to get slightly flustered in the meantime. Just a bit. This was basically strict domming… yeah. She kinda wished she could be like that to Rachel, and maybe even hear Rachel answer to her so politely, calling her Mistress on a routine basis.

Or maybe not. Max wasn't completely sure if she wanted Rachel to call her that. She liked the idea that they could be closer without such official borders. Plus it would just feel really weird.

Rachel still nodded despite not having to confirm, and the handler finally walked from around the desk, towards her, and stopped just short of her slave mat, looking down at her.

"Another important part of discipline is proper posture, and you lack it completely, so we need to fix that as soon as possible. Arch your back and stick your chest out."

Admittedly, Rachel was sitting in a pretty sloppy manner – all kind of slumped and compact, kind of not super comfortable but much more comfortable than she'd normally expect to be – something she attributed to the suit's stimulating effects.

She did as the trainer told her, immediately noticing the obvious practical purpose – to present her breasts.

The trainer walked around her and leaned down to adjust the placement of her folded arms slightly, so it's more in line with her sides, making the front appear better presented.

She also adjusted her neck to be more straight.

"Now spread your legs a bit, and point your knees slightly outwards. Make sure your crotch is fully visible, and that your weight is distributed comfortably."

She walked back around to her front, to see.

Rachel didn't need to guess the practical purpose here, and it felt a little weird to do, simply because you normally kinda keep those sensitive parts 'protected' by default. And now she spread her legs and practically presented her pussy, and was apparently expected to do that all the time.

Again, she found the position much more comfortable than she thought she would, and it was actually quite relieving that the suit made those things so noticeably easier.

… If only it could do the same to the obvious slavey feeling she was getting from sitting like this.

This part of the position surprisingly didn't require any adjustments, so the handler lightened up a little.

"Good girl."

Positive reinforcement.

"This is the pose you're expected to assume when sitting – ideally, _always,_ and we'll work towards that in the foreseeable future. But for now, the immediate _requirement_ is for you to pose like this whenever sitting anywhere in this building, especially in the presence of a trainer."

She started walking past Rachel towards the back of the room, explaining on the way.

"At first it will be hard to maintain the pose, and you will keep forgetting about it really easily. That's why it's usually important that the fresh subs already have that skill or a good chunk of practice posing by the time their training starts."

She looked through some of the cupboards in search for something Max couldn't see just yet, and Rachel didn't turn to look at, interestingly already feeling how her body kinda started slumping on its own, especially without any eyes on her.

"At least we don't need to worry about standing poses. But even this will take a while to learn, and we cannot postpone the rest of the training even further just for this. Fortunately, your Mistress didn't shave your head yet, so I can get you something that'll help you learn it much faster."

Both girls suddenly had a brief moment of panic, quickly glancing at each other.

Shave her head?

That idea was on the table, and may easily be something they'd do – or have to do.

Max shook her head slightly, quietly adding, "I would never."

She looked towards the handler.

"I won't have to shave her head, right?"

Mrs. Hayward was a bit busy in the moment.

"Huh? No, not if you don't want to."

A sigh of relief was let out in unison.

"… But you do have to shave the rest of her."

"Right."

The handler picked up several items – a black matte tube, a box of wipes, a length of rope, and something slim and made of metal – Max didn't make it out before she beckoned her over.

"Come, Ms. Caulfield."

Mrs. Hayward headed to Rachel herself, and kneeled behind her, just off the mat, laying out the items on it in the space between them.

" _Bow._ "

That was must obviously a command, and Rachel registered it as one, but wasn't sure exactly what it meant, in the context of a simple greeting not being the 'right' greeting. She uncertainly leaned forward a bit, then paused and half-looked backwards.

"Uh. Hau?" (Uh. How?)

"Bowing is when your forehead meets the floor."

Max just kinda awkwardly stood beside the handler, behind Rachel, and then decided to kneel down to their level as well.

"It would also be appropriate to say 'Yes, Trainer.' in response, since that was a direct order."

Though by that point Rachel already obediently lowered herself all the way down, even if with some slight reluctance, caused by a couple of things – the obviously very slave-ish bow with her face in the floor, and the fact that she was basically sticking out her backside to the two people sitting behind them.

Not… a super comfortable place to be. But it probably didn't matter. She did what she was told, and that's all she had to care about.

The handler picked up that bottle and squeezed something out of it onto her fingers, lathering them with what looked like transparent lube.

With the items laid out in front of them, Max was able to make out what the metal thing was – kind of a spacey hook looking thing, with two subsequent balls at the bottom end of the hook, and one ring at the top.

Without any warning or words, the trainer placed those lubed fingers right on Rachel's asshole, and tried to spread the lube around – tried, because Rachel pulled away, slightly, as if on instinct, and raised her head to look backwards.

It was more than instinct of course, because Rachel also tried to make surprised and slightly concerned words.

"Whah ah you hoink?" (What are you doing?)

Suddenly there was a slap – a lightly painful one, one that earned a surprised grunt from Rachel, and a surprised look from Max.

Did Mrs. Hayward just slap her buttcheek?

Rachel suddenly felt very humiliated.

" _Never_ do that. Your trainers have the same access to your body as your Mistress. You don't leave the position you were ordered to on your own whim. _Bow_."

Her voice was powerful and commanding there, strict, and thanks to the humiliating feeling she just brought, Rachel didn't feel the confidence to say anything in return.

She'd probably get more punishment if she didn't follow the order though, and it was just—weird. To be in this position. To be ordered like this, to be _slapped_ into obedience. She genuinely didn't know how to respond, on a conscious level, since this was supposed to be something she'd normally get agitated by, but now … the instinct was to get back in the pose and just quietly eat the defeat.

So she did, and as she did, Max had the most radiant blush. Hearing the handler be so strict, touching Rachel, then slapping her when she disobeyed and ordering her back into the humiliating pose – holy fuck.

Mrs. Hayward was basically being the dom from Max's writing, getting whatever little thing she wanted out of her, despite her reluctance. Was that intentional?

… It was the _hottest_ thing.

"Defying your trainers like this earns the most serious punishments. And, again, you could have said 'Yes, Trainer.' there."

Her fingers returned to her asshole, and started spreading the lube all around the circle, slightly dipping more and more into the center.

She finally turned her attention to Max, and that commanding voice was completely gone, replaced by friendly explanation, as if she was another person now.

"If you haven't done this before, you always want to be really careful and slow. Don't slack on the lube. Be generous. Don't try any painplay there until you learn about it in your classes."

One finger went in, and she squeezed a drop of lube on top to lather the hole properly, gently inserting the finger and pulling it out, repeating the preparing motion for a few seconds.

Max nodded distantly. She was kind of getting lost a bit at trying to grasp this reality.

Rachel, in the meantime, made no sounds, but couldn't say she hated the feeling. It was just… weird, if anything. But not hurtful at all.

Some lingering humiliation was still there, but nobody really did anything with it, and there was no reason to expect them to. It's probably not even supposed to feel like that – it's a natural part of the role, something to get used to, something _not_ to worry about because all she needs to do is just what she's told.

Mrs. Hayward picked up the hook next, and started lathering the metal balls at the bottom end. They certainly were larger than the one finger she inserted – maybe twice as large, but the rod itself was roughly the same size.

"Rule of thumb: the less experience you both have, the more lube you want. Better safe than sorry at first. Don't experiment until you're confident."

Another nod.

With the balls properly lubed up, the handler pressed that end against Rachel's hole, and started pushing – very gently at first, and very slowly and smoothly increasing the pressure of the push.

Soon, Rachel made a little grunting sound and just slightly shifted forward, before one of the balls finally popped in, and her pose remained as it was. The balls were both positioned quite close, so the handler continued pushing, and in a moment the second one was inside too, went in much easier than the first.

It was … definitely an arousing experience to her, even if she wasn't sure why exactly they were doing this. Before, she was aware she was pretty okay with this stuff. Or rather, just not against it, but it was more fun to play with other parts with Chloe, so it got little exploration.

Mrs. Hayward pushed it in a bit further until the hole's ring was comfortably closed around the slim metal curve of the hook. The top part of it went in a nice parallel along Rachel's spine upwards, though not far.

That's where the ropes came in – but only after Mrs. Hayward wiped her hands clean.

"Watch this now, closely."

She tied the rope through the top of the hook, the topmost end of it with the ring, explaining the process on the way – how to secure a tight knot and so on, and even had Max repeat the process, which she did quietly and attentively.

Simply nothing to say. Max quietly found this awesome. Apart from gagging Rachel, this was probably the first kinky device thing that she put onto her with her own hands, which was an enjoyable process to her.

It seemed to be really important that Max remembered this, and despite the surprisingly deep-but-quiet sense of excitement, she was able to focus on it fairly easily – it was almost natural to deal with a piece of metal that was partly _inside_ Rachel.

So when the rope was secure there, there was a command.

" _Sit._ "

"… Yes, T'haineh." (Yes, Trainer.)

This one was a bit delayed. More delayed than Rachel sitting back up and … not posing. It was way too easy to focus on the feeling below and the fact that they were discussing something really kinky down there – and it directly involved control over Rachel's body.

A weird, arousing feeling, and surprisingly not bad, even if it sort of made her lose focus on other things.

There was a little huff.

"See? It's hard to get used to posing by default."

Mrs. Hayward manipulated Rachel slightly, arching her back some more until she was in the perfect pose for what came next.

Again, the ropes came into play, but this time she manipulated Rachel's ponytail, pulling it down somewhat, and explaining to Max how to securely attach the ropes and tie them into her hair so that they may be easily removed later, but wont be removed simply by Rachel's own jerks if she dared to make any.

Eventually, the final bit of rope went back down and through the ring, tightening the whole thing quite a bit, and getting secured at the top.

Now Rachel noticed the difference – her head was pulled back down by her hair, with the anal hook somewhat uncomfortably digging into her ass by default if she didn't arch her back a bit to loosen the strain of the rope and her hair. This somewhat resulted in her keeping her chin a bit higher too, but the effect was very obvious in terms of what it was supposed to achieve.

It would effectively immediately remind her with a nagging feeling down below, to arch her back and stay in the pose to relieve it.

Mrs. Hayward also took her by the chin and lowered it a bit, causing somewhat of a chain reaction that was quite weird to feel.

That she could make herself feel something in her ass just by nodding or moving her chest. Or probably other parts of her body too, which is kind of a fun idea, kink-wise. Rachel did like devices, when the sub had that kind of control, even if she always imagined herself giving it to them, and not receiving it.

The handler focused on her chin though.

"You'll have this bit of leeway unless we use a posture collar, but then you won't learn anything. So whenever you sit, always prioritize arching your back over keeping your chin up. As long as you do that, you will make great progress in no time."

Actually, that was a serious question – how long is she supposed to wear this for? And where? And how often?

But just as Rachel was about to make a noise, Mrs. Hayward happened to continue that thought herself, to Max.

"Which in numbers is about a week for most people. Treat it as homework and have her wear it whenever she's not laying. But give her regular breaks to rest as well, especially in the first couple of days. Otherwise her back might hurt and crawling will be pain."

The final look glanced over the setup, and Mrs. Hayward, pushed herself up on her feet with a sigh, grabbing the remaining items with her and bringing them to the desk.

Max kind of looked over it some more, after nodding to the handler's words. It actually _looked_ pretty sexy on Rachel too, which was another thing to enjoy about it.

But it wasn't just Max's enjoyment that mattered. She placed her palm on Rachel's shoulder, actually kind of surprised for a moment that she could vaguely feel Rachel's fingers through the tight rubber there.

"Does it feel okay?"

Gentle, not commanding at all, unlike the handler.

Rachel appreciated the handholding attempt, even if she didn't know it wasn't initially meant to be one.

She shrugged slightly, and her voice came out surprisingly okay.

"It toesn'h huh't." (It doesn't hurt.)

Who knows how comfortable posing like this would be without the suit solution.

Unless its placebo. Not like Rachel could tell.

"That's all I wanted you to stay for, Miss Caulfield."

Max's eyes came up to the handler.

"You should head off to class."

Nod.

Before Max stood up, she felt confident enough for a few more words, as her hand squeezed down on Rachel's shoulder.

"You'll be okay without me."

That came out with a smile, and Rachel returned a light "Hm." to that, as if out of appreciation.

Strange. Things… didn't look that good, especially with this new addition and the concerning idea that she'd have to wear it for quite a long time. But somehow Rachel felt relatively okay now.

Maybe because she still didn't have to care. She was just given from one Mistress to another.

Although… she did have to care about some things. Like the posture. Or remembering things right. Or listening. Or training efficiently.

Hm.

That's not exactly… how it's supposed to be.

Maybe.

She's not meant to worry about that many things.

Perhaps it's something to figure out as it goes, and there's more nuance to what Dana explained.

"I pick her up here at 12, right?"

Max picked up her bag in the meantime and hesitated by the teacher's desk.

"Correct."

Max nodded, and shot a final supportive glance to Rachel, kind of like a parent at their kid's first day at school.

"Alright. Goodbye, Mrs. Hayward."

"Goodbye, Ms. Caulfield."

The closed door left the student alone with the teacher.

okay now pls pretend the chapter is over but theres an author comment at the end okay im really trying to format this nicely but its just so bad

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